


The Greatest First Love

by ColourMyGalaxies



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Adult!AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Fluff, M/M, Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi - Freeform, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 64,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3835657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColourMyGalaxies/pseuds/ColourMyGalaxies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ishimaru Kiyotaka transfers workplaces only to discover that his tyrannical new boss is actually Oowada Mondo, his first love from 10 years ago!<br/>Now that they are coworkers (and neighbors), will Ishimaru and Oowada learn to fall in love just like they did 10 years ago? Or will countless obstacles stand in their way? (Sekaiichi Hatsukoi AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Case of Ishimaru Kiyotaka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ishimaru starts his first day at Marukawa Shoten, a popular publishing company. The day turns out to be full of plot twists, as he is placed into the shoujo manga department and... reunites with his former love from 10 years ago?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: This story is based on Sekaiichi Hatsuki, but I will not be copying Nakamura Shungiku's story exactly. The setting and general synopsis (especially the first chapter) will be the same, but I will change the plot for the most part.  
> when you realize 6 months after publishing the story that the students of hope's peak didn't start high school when they were 15... oops...

First loves were always so pure. 

The threat of breakups weren't present, so the belief that love always lasts forever is fixated into the heads of the innocent and naïve lovers. 

At the tender age of 15, Ishida Kiyotaka fell in love for the first time. His first love was the dashing gang leader Oowada Mondo. They had been brothers from different mothers for a year, but at the end of his first year at Kibougamine Academy, Ishida realized with a jolt that he saw Oowada in a romantic light. It was so unfitting of a disciplinarian, and yet it felt so  _right._

It had been so simple back then. The two bros knew each other like the backs of their own hands, and they proceeded to fall in love with everything about the other. Ishida loved Oowada's sense of humour and how caring, sensitive, and loyal he was. Oowada somehow loved the public morals committee member back despite their evident differences. Everything was blissful and cherry blossom petals seemed to flutter down upon them at all times.

But now? Ten years later? Hell no.

Ishida had changed in many ways. Primarily, his parents had divorced when he was 18, and so his name was changed from Ishida to Ishimaru. Secondly, he was now a jaded man. Romance hadn't been kind to him, and so he vowed never to love again. His only heartbreak took its toll on him, and eventually, Ishimaru transitioned from an untainted boy to a damaged and broody adult.

_"The next station is Shiori-Kumo. Doors on the left will open."_

The sound of the subway announcement interrupted his thoughts. He had allowed himself to space out! This was unacceptable, especially because he was on his way to his first day at Marukawa Shoten! He viciously shook his head then marched onto the platform when the doors opened. 

He whipped out his smartphone from his coat pocket and loaded directions to Marukawa Shoten on the GPS app. "The me of high school couldn't have even fathomed that future me would be using a smartphone..." Ishimaru thought absentmindedly. It was true, since in high school, Ishimaru thought such luxuries were hindrances to his educational crusade. But he knew now that practicality was immensely vital in the adult world. There were many things he knew now that he was 25. Many were negative.

After ten minutes of walking, he reached the editorial office. Upon entering the automatic doors, a woman at the Guest Services front desk whose nametag read "Asahina" redirected him to a small room. There, a woman with bobbed red hair was waiting for him.

"Ah! Good morning, you must be Ishimaru! I'm Koizumi Mahiru, by the way," she piped.

"Yes, hello," Ishimaru replied. He sat in the chair across from her. He marveled at the fact that he was actually in Marukawa Shoten to kickstart a career. After he had been sabotaged at Onodera Publishing, he didn't think he could be hired again. Ishimaru was more than ready to continue editing literature. 

"So, Ishimaru," Koizumi said, "Congratulations on your transfer to Marukawa's shoujo manga department!"

"...Huh?"

The redhead cocked her head. "Did you not hear me? You've been assigned to the shoujo manga department."

"Th-That's... that's girl's manga, right?" Ishimaru bellowed angrily, "I thought I asserted very clearly that I was in charge of editing literature at my previous job. I wish to continue in my field of expertise, thank you very much!"

"Ah, well," Koizumi mumbled, "My superiors make the decisions, not me, jeez."

"Can you check one more time?! Perhaps there was an error!"

"It says right here," Koizumi read a document, " _Ishimaru-san, employed mid-career, is to be assigned to the shoujo manga division of Marukawa Shoten._ "

Ishimaru couldn't believe his ears. He had worked his ass off to be selected as a student at Kibougamine Academy. He had meticulously studied Japanese and English literature at two different universities to gain the skills he had now. And now this redhead (not that he discriminated against gingers) was informing him that all of his hard work was for nothing? That all of his toils and efforts would be reduced to editing cheesy romance comic strips?!

Koizumi continued, "Well, I'll take you to the editing department. Let's go!" She abruptly stood up from her chair and motioned for him to follow. He reluctantly complied. They boarded an elevator and Ishimaru noted that Koizumi pressed the button for the fourth floor. When the elevator stopped at their destination, he begrudgingly followed Koizumi down a hallway. 

As Koizumi blabbered on about how his particular shoujo manga department was influential and award-winning, Ishimaru couldn't stop thinking about how much he was going to hate his new job. He hadn't even started working and he despised it already. Incredible. He decided that he would stay in shoujo manga for two weeks, then find a reason to quit. He briefly listened to Koizumi chattering about the new hot chief editor who had apparently transformed _Diamond_ department from a hopeless wreck to the #1 selling shoujo manga magazine in just one year. For the first time since finding out he was going to be editing comics, Ishimaru's mood brightened. Extraordinary leaders who used their gifts and talents to aspire to be the best were admirable! During the two weeks he was going to endure, he would have to learn from this amazing chief editor. 

Koizumi stopped and stated, "Well, here we are at Diamond!" _  
_

Ishimaru sighed.  _Let's get this over with,_ he thought.

"Greetings! I'm pleased to be working with you from now on," he drawled, "My name is Ishimaru... eh?"

Diamond department looked and smelled like death. Books and papers littered the whole office, if you could even call this hellhole an office. Worn out corpse-like editors were passed out except for a blonde woman who was typing on a laptop agonizingly slow, trembling all the while. Ishimaru could swear he saw a putrid black fog swirling around Diamond.  _  
_

"Oh God!" Koizumi screamed, "I'm sorry, this is the wrong phase of the cycle!"

Ishimaru blinked. "Cycle? Elaborate on what you mean!" 

"A-Anyway, good luck, newbie!" Koizumi sprinted out of the shoujo manga section, leaving a baffled Ishimaru alone.

"W-What the...?" He shuffled closer to the table in the center of Diamond, then gagged, clutching his nose. The closer he got to the editors, the worse they smelled. 

Several people from other departments were walking along the hallway, so Ishimaru decided to talk with them instead.

"Er, excuse me? Is this really the Diamond shoujo manga department?"

A short blond scurried past him. "Tch, yeah, th-this is the oh-so-hated Diamond...!"

"Ibuki isn't part of Diamond! Ibuki wants nothing to do with Diamond!"

If Ishimaru was dumbfounded before, now he was flabbergasted. A despicably horrid office that edits  _love stories_ and on top of everything, is avoided by every other normal human being. He really wanted to quit now.

Well, if speaking to people from other departments were out of question, Ishimaru supposed he would have to talk to the only conscious Diamond editor. He carefully approached the blonde woman.

"Ah, hello?" He said, "I'm the new employee, Ishimaru?"

"H-H-Hello... you may call me Sonia..." the woman replied. 

Although she was smiling, Sonia was shaking as if she had no energy left in her body; Ishimaru almost felt sympathy for her. A woman this regal-looking shouldn't be working herself to the bone. Weren't there labour laws in Japan?

"U-Um... are you alright?" he added, "Your whole department looks extremely fatigued."

"It's just part of the cycle, do not fret..."

"There it is again. The 'cycle'. What exactly is this cycle you speak of?"

She tapped on her keyboard a few more times, then opened her mouth to respond. Before she could, however, she swayed to the right and landed with a hard  _thud_ onto the dusty floor.

"Gyaaaaahh! What the...?!" Ishimaru shrieked. 

He ran over, crouched down, and tried to wake her up. His efforts were in vain, however, as she slept soundly on the floor. He furrowed his brows. He would have to talk to someone else. He walked around the edge of the table towards a man with faded brown hair. Oddly, although the rest of his hair was short, a section in the dead center was long and defied gravity.

"Er... pardon me?" Ishimaru nudged the brunet on the shoulder. The force of his nudge caused the man to fall off of his chair. Again, a piercing scream escaped from Ishimaru's throat. Awoken by the disturbance, the brunet quaked slightly, and planted a hand on the floor to prompt himself up.

"W...What?" the brunet mumbled weakly.

"That's what I want to ask..." Ishimaru muttered, then cleared his throat. "Greetings, I'm Ishimaru, the new employee."

The brunet cursed. "O-Oh... shit, right... the newcomer due today... I'm Hinata."

"Hello..." Ishimaru said as Hinata managed to climb back onto his chair.

"Boss!" Hinata said weakly. "Boss, the new guy's here!" Louder, now. "Boss, can you hear me? Boss!"

"Shut yer trap, I heard you the first fucking time!" A low and raspy voice growled. Ishimaru turned his head towards the new voice.

A man, who was supposedly the head editor, had his feet perched up on the chief editor's desk. He was in sickeningly casual attire: a red and black plaid shirt over a black V-neck shirt, black sweatpants, and white Converse low-tops. He removed his arm from his face, revealing an exhausted-looking visage. Dark bags had formed under his half-closed eyes, and Ishimaru thought he saw... smudged eyeliner? The boss' black hair was disheveled; his bangs were nearly long enough to cover his eyes. His lips were curled up into a snarl as he put on a pair of black-rimmed glasses.

"Huh? Who's this? Better be delivering the manuscript." The head editor grumbled.

Annoyed, Ishimaru spat, "In actuality, I'm the new full-timer on contract."

"Hm? A newbie? Yer name is...?"

"Ishimaru Kiyotaka."

"Oh, right, heard you got hired or some shit. Nice t'meet you."

 _What the...? What's with him?_ Ishimaru thought. Both his attitude and appearance were sloppy. Compared to Ishimaru, who was wearing a dress shirt and tie, the boss was horribly under dressed. 

The head editor continued, "I wasn't at th'interview, but I was told you have editing experience?"

"Yes, I spent three years editing literature at Onodera Publishing."

"Literature?" The editor-in-chief scoffed.

Ishimaru's scarlet eyes twitched out of annoyance. First, the "top dog" is revealed to be a total slob, now, he undermines literature? Ishimaru held his patience; he knew it was bad to judge people based on their first impressions, no matter how terrible or reserved they were.

"Y-Yes... my main author was Togami Byakuya."

That ought to wow the supposedly esteemed chief editor. Togami's novels were consistently #1 bestsellers. Surely, the head editor would be in awe.

"Useless."

"...Eh?"

"You don't have ANY experience in shoujo manga," the boss said, "Useless."

" _N_ _gh_!" Ishimaru absolutely detested being called useless. Especially by someone who thought they were all that and didn't know  _anything_ about him as a person! 

The telephone rang once before the remaining corpse snatched it and put the receiver to his ear.

"...Greetings, mortal." Ishimaru raised an eyebrow at the strange manner of speech. Then, he realized that it wasn't just the way he spoke, the man was weird in general. His skin was so pale it appeared to be grey. One eye was grey, one eye was red, and a scar refused to heal through his red eye. His hair was dyed jet black and gelled straight up. 

"Boss," the strange man said, "Naegi Komaru-sensei is downstairs with the replacement manuscript."

"Fuckin' finally," the editor-in-chief muttered. "You, Ishi-whatever, you're comin' with me."

"E-Eh? Me?" staggered Ishimaru, "But I literally just got here--"

"Look around, fuckhead. Everyone else is dead. C'mon, yer not backin' out, are ya? Show me you're not a useless pile of shit."

Ishimaru was fuming. He really couldn't tolerate his new boss. Especially because at his full height, he was at least five inches taller than him. There were too many factors that made this arrogant and tyrannical head editor superior to Ishimaru! Nevertheless, he obediently trailed behind the boss.

"So," Ishimaru inquired, "Replacement manuscripts are for when the regular manuscript isn't available, correct?"

"Right." They got into the elevator and the editor-in-chief pressed the Lobby button.

"When does the magazine start selling?" Ishimaru asked, "It is of utmost importance that replacement manuscripts should be prepared very early on-"

"A week."

"...Eh?"

"The magazine." The head editor grumbled. "It hits shelves in seven fucking days."

"A w-week?! And the replacement manuscript _just_ came?" Ishimaru shrilled, "That is absurd. Surely you have replacement manuscripts that are ready to be used immediately..."

"We do. But they're all shit." 

"I beg your pardon, but... so? If time is running out, then--"

"Listen up, newbie." Ishimaru's eye twitched. He was really being looked down at by this monster of an editor-in-chief. Said "monster" continued, "When I became the top dog around here, the department was called  _Hope._ Y'wanna know why I changed it to be called Diamond? Two reasons. One of them is one of my favourite quotes. 'Why fill a hole with rocks when it can be stuffed with diamonds?'"

"Well... I suppose that's true, but if there is really no other option-"

"Just shaddup. We're already here," the head editor spat. Sure enough, they were in the break room. A young woman with messily cropped hair was seated at one of the tables, grasping a stack of manuscript papers.

"Naegi-sensei," the editor-in-chief sat across from her, "Thanks so much."

"Ah, no prob at all!" Komaru bobbed. "See, I told you I could draw it in just three days. You owe me ten bucks!"

 _Three days?!_ Ishimaru screamed internally. This maniac of a head editor sure cut it close...

He realized with a jolt that he was awkwardly still standing, so he plopped down into the chair beside his boss. The latter was in the midst of proofreading the manuscript before sending it off to the printers. Or so Ishimaru thought.

"Yo, Naegi-sensei," the head editor drawled, "Can ya make this confession scene more dramatic?"

Komaru blinked. "Huh? I need to change it? That's b.s.!"

"I'm not bullshitting ya. Look 'ere, this is supposed to be the climax of this chapter, but it looks plain boring."

"Er... that's not really helping, I need to know what exactly you want changed..."

"Tch. You should know. Haven't you ever been confessed to before?"

Komaru flushed a deep crimson at that last remark. "E-Er... boss...?" Ishimaru sputtered. Wasn't this sexual harassment?! Privacy invasion?! This head editor was insane!

"Hmph, y'know what, old man?" Komaru smirked. "Maybe I have, but still, I wouldn't be able to see myself being confessed to, and I sure as hell wouldn't have been able to see how a kiss would look like if I were the one getting the action."

"You have a point," the head editor pondered, "I guess I need to show you how it should look."

Ishimaru stood up. "D-Do you need samples? If you just notify me as to where they are located, I can get them to you very quickly-"

"Watch closely," the editor-in-chief also stood up. "The two of them were harbouring feelings for each other for like, forever, right? It should look like this."

"Er... I still need to know where the samples are-"

Suddenly, the head editor grabbed Ishimaru's wrist. Ishimaru felt the blood rushing to his face.

"Um... boss?"

The head editor looked... strained. His facial expression was a mix between desire and doubt. He looked down longingly into Ishimaru's eyes, and Ishimaru couldn't help but notice that his eyes were a beautiful lilac colour.

"Ishimaru..." the head editor purred. Shivers spiraled down Ishimaru's spine, and he couldn't help staring back at his boss in awe.

Then, the striking blow.

"I... I like ya!"  _W-What?_ "Ishimaru... I... I've liked you... since the day we met... you've always been in my heart since then!"

Ishimaru swallowed. "Boss? I-- MMPH!!"

The head editor pulled Ishimaru's arm away from him, forcing Ishimaru to tip backward, only to be caught by his editor-in-chief's embrace. After another lustful gaze, the head editor glanced quickly at Ishimaru's lips before he pressed his own against them.

"Mm... MMMPPPPHHHH???!!!!!" Ishimaru shrieked into his intruder's mouth as Komaru furiously scribbled away, fangirling all the while. Ishimaru planted his hands on his boss' chest and tried to push away, but the head editor just tightened his hold and cupped Ishimaru's face with his free hand. After what seemed like eternity, Ishimaru was finally able to break the kiss.

"W-W-What the hell was that?!" hollered Ishimaru. The editor-in-chief looked shocked momentarily, before adapting to his usual tough facial expression and cooing,

"Get with the program, newbie.  _That..._ was work."

* * *

 

Ishimaru wasn't going to last the two weeks he had planned to stay.

He was sitting in the break room, shell-shocked. It was his first day of work. His FIRST DAY. But...

  * He was assigned to edit girls' romance comics. 
  * The department he was assigned to, Diamond, is a despairingly hopeless mess.
  * His boss is seriously the worst human being ever, despite the fact that he is hailed as an influentual and amazing editor.
  * He was sexually harassed by said boss.



He shook his head vigorously, trying to forget the incident that had occurred only hours before. He had taken so many measures to try to erase it from his memories. He had gone out for lunch. He had asked Koizumi to give him a tour of the whole company in order to get acquainted with his new workplace. He had studied Diamond magazine's list of manga releases. But the fact that he had been forcefully kissed for no reason other than work still irked his brain.

"Nnnnggghhh!!!" he grumbled, wildly running his fingers through his jet black hair.

"Whoa, what's wrong with ya?"

Ishimaru spun around to face the one person he did not want to see. "H-Hello, boss..."

The head editor frowned. "What're you still doing here? Everyone else went home. You're free to go."

"Ah... yes... then, good work today, thank you for your help." Ishimaru bowed, then fumbled to retrieve his stuff.

"...Hey. You look really familiar. Have we met before?"

"I apologize, I don't recall ever making your acquaintance before," Ishimaru replied, "Perhaps we've seen glimpses of each other. Afterall, we live in the same city and we were both in the publishing business even before now."

"...'Suppose yer right," he mumbled as he trudged out of the break room.

Ishimaru spoke softly, "How rude. Failure to properly greet people, even your kouhai, is completely unacceptable!" With that, he stormed off to the train station, dreading his next day of work at Marukawa Shoten.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I never stopped thinkin' 'bout ya. For the past ten fucking years, you've always been on my mind. I WILL make you love me again. I'll make you say 'I love you' again."
> 
> Next Chapter: The head editor realizes that Ishimaru is his former first love.


	2. Ten Years Ago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ishimaru realizes that the boss whom he detests with a passion is the one he loved ten years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After almost a month, here's the new chapter of The Greatest First Love. The wait time for the next chapter will also be moderately long because final exams are coming up T^T Hope you enjoy reading chapter 2; please leave kudos, bookmarks, and comments!  
> \---------  
> Lots of "..." and angsty arguing.

For the first time in his whole life, Ishimaru Kiyotaka was not willing to be enthusiastic or work his hardest.

He dragged his feet as he made his way to Marukawa Shoten, his new workplace. The place where he had to work on shoujo manga, deal with the worst office in the world, and put up with the worst boss in the world. 

He had tried to be hopeful for today. Really, he did. Last night, after getting off of work, he had purchased several volumes of various shoujo manga titles that he knew were affiliated with Marukawa. He had meticulously read, examined, and studied them for the sake of familiarizing himself with his new line of work. He had gone to bed feeling prepared and energetic. He woke up this morning feeling fresh and determined and got ready as fast as possible. But as soon as he got off the subway, he remembered just how his work day would be like, and his attitude sunk to rock bottom. 

He finally made it to the fourth floor of the building after much fretting and reluctance. He tried to stall even more time by fumbling with his coat buttons, adjusting his black dress shirt, and pulling on his jeans (he had dressed down slightly after seeing the outfits of his coworkers). Eventually, he realized he'd be late if he stalled any longer and made his way over to the editorial office. With a sigh, he entered.

"Good morning..." he mumbled.

A pleasant chorus of voices sing-songed, "Good morning, Ishimaru!!"

Ishimaru's head snapped up. The corpses were gone; they had been magically replaced with bright, friendly, and very much alive human beings. One glance was all it took for Ishimaru to conclude that these weren't the walking dead he had met before.

"Er, I apologize," Ishimaru stammered, "I seem to have wandered into the wrong office... Diamond is-"

"Nonsense, Ishimaru! This  _is_ Diamond!"

He looked again. Sure enough, the three people in front of him were Sonia, Hinata, and Tanaka. Save for Tanaka, who was still reserved, and the boss who was nowhere to be seen, Sonia and Hinata were smiling widely. His coworkers, no, the whole office seemed to sparkle and shine vividly. The floor wasn't littered with papers, the desks were spotless and free of garbage, and cute decorations such as teddy bears and the like adorned the place. The day before, the room seemed dull and dark with a black fog hovering over top, but today, the room shone of the colour pink. Pink wallpaper, pink stuffed animals, pink, pink, pink!

"Welcome back to Diamond, Ishimaru!" Sonia cheered, "We're hella sorry about yesterday!"

Hinata chuckled. "Yeah, it was pretty horrifying, huh? That's just how the end of the shitty cycle goes. But don't worry..."

Tanaka, Sonia, and Hinata piped in unison, "We'll teach you everything you need to know about shoujo manga!"

Ishimaru backed away. "Ahaha... right... please pardon me..." He whipped around, grabbed the nearest editor in sight, and dashed off.

"W-What the FUCK? Lemme go! I'm not part of your weird editing group!" The editor shrieked. He tried to pull away from Ishimaru's grasp, but he was quite small, so his efforts were futile.

Ishimaru turned a sharp corner and entered the men's washroom with the editor. "I know... I mean, please excuse me, but... what in the world was that?"

"Huh? What the fuck are you talking about?"

Ishimaru glanced down at the poor, innocent editor he had dragged to the washroom. He was almost 30 cm (1') shorter, and he had a blond buzz cut and a menacing glare.

"I  _mean..._ that place was a garbage dump yesterday... but now it's perfection. Just how did the zombies from yesterday transform into dashing kings and queens? Why is everything drastically brighter and sparkly? Why is the office so freakishly pink?!" Ishimaru huffed and puffed as the editor peered at him quizzically.

"Oh... that... that's called the cycle, mate."

"Cycle?" Ishimaru inquired, "I've heard that term quite a few times, but could you care to explain its meaning for me?"

"Um... sure... I guess..." the editor said, "Basically, since Diamond is a monthly publication, those guys publish a book in 20 days."

"T-twenty days?! Wow." When Ishimaru had worked on literature, books, especially novels, took much longer than 20 days to publish. Hell, it'd be considered impossible to finish  _writing_ in 20 days, nevermind releasing one to the public.

"Yeah, it's pretty normal 'round here for shoujo," the editor continued, "In short, they're fuckin' fine at the start of the cycle, when they just have to check the proposed plot and rough outline. They start deteriorating due to lack of sleep when they have to check the shitty storyboards. Then, they start pulling all-nighters waiting on the manuscripts an' shit. When they get the manuscript, they usually stop showering and sleeping so that they can edit the manuscripts, which can be good, bad, or just... hopelessly terrible. They reach the verge of dying as they finish proofreading. And when that's all over and the damn thing is published, they somehow emerge refreshed, looking fucking better than ever."

Ishimaru was stunned. Editing literature was never this difficult or tiring. Damn, he really wanted to quit now.

The editor added, "Also, the office is pink because, y'know, when in Rome, do what the Romans do. It's normal around the shoujo manga department. We familiarize ourselves with how a girl might be feeling while reading the manga to make better girls' manga. My department is lavender, for example."

"I see, that explains everything. Thank you so much... er..."

"Th' name's Kuzuryuu."

"Hello! I'm Ishimaru. As I was saying, thank you, and I'm sorry for uh... dragging you here."

"No problem. I hope you get accustomed to Diamond. They're the top magazine around here, but... there's a rumour that they're all fags, so watch your back." With that, Kuzuryuu pushed past the door and left.

"F-Fags?! Watch your language!" he hollered at the departing figure. Ishimaru had no resentment against gays, it was just surprising to hear that all the members of Diamond were homo. It was a shame that Kuzuryuu was homophobic. He trudged back to Diamond.

"Heyyyyy!" Sonia greeted him as he entered.

"Oi, you're late!" 

Ishimaru glanced up. He saw that the head editor had come while he was talking to Kuzuryuu. The head editor also looked much more alive; the bags under his eyes had faded completely, his hair wasn't as disheveled, and his tan skin practically radiated. He wore a dark violet hoodie and grey joggers and was pushing his glasses onto his nose at the moment.

"I believe you are in the wrong, superior mortal," Tanaka argued, "The red-eyed demon was previously situated here, it was only temporarily that he was gone."

"Tch, in that case, no penalty. But you better sit yer ass down and work."

Before Ishimaru could twitch out of anger, Hinata motioned for him to take a seat beside him. Ishimaru complied and plunked down in the wheelie chair beside Hinata.

"So, I heard it's your first time editing shoujo manga, right?" the brunet asked.

"Y-Yes, unfortunately."

"Do not worry, Ishi, we will teach you what you need to know!" Sonia declared.

Ishimaru and the head editor squinted at Sonia. Ishi? What a ridiculous and childish nickname. He didn't dare debate it though, so he let it be.

"Thank you, I dearly appreciate your efforts!"

"Then let us get to work, red-eyed one," Tanaka said.

"My red eyes aren't  _that_ abnormal, Tanaka..." Ishimaru mumbled.

* * *

For most of the day, Ishimaru was taught the basics of editing manga by Hinata and Sonia. He learned how to edit digitial manuscripts, how to do phototypesetting on paper manuscripts, and how to apply toner. He learned that Tanaka was the second-in-command at Diamond, Hinata was surprisingly the oldest in the department, and that he and the boss were actually the same age. He remembered what Koizumi had said about the editor-in-chief being extremely capable, and found himself subconsciously agreeing. If he accomplished all of what Koizumi said he had at the mere age of 25, that was honestly amazing. Though he certainly didn't show his capability now, what with his sloppiness and horrible attitude.

An hour before the end of the day, Tanaka handed him a page from an old manuscript, informing him that he was to apply his knowledge and see if there were any errors that needed to be corrected. Five minutes later, Ishimaru was still squinting at it.

"Hey, Ishimaru," Hinata inquired, "What's the matter?"

"Ah, nothing really, it's just..." Ishimaru pointed at the page, "Did the mangaka get lazy?"

"Huh?"

"Look here, this page has almost no inking except to outline the characters quite vaguely. The page is almost all text and toner! It's as if the mangaka-"

_WHACK!_

Ishimaru barely flinched at the thick book that slapped him in the face. As his cheek reddened, he growled, "...Mr. Editor-in-Chief. What was the purpose of that?"

"You're a fuckin' idiot! That page is part of the climax!"

"Climax?"

"Yeah, dumbass, the confession scene! Of COURSE the page is all text and toner! The two main characters are finally professing their feelings for each other. That shit is supposed to be dramatic, so the mangaka makes it obvious that something fucking big is coming to get the readers excited. Then they make everythin' all sparkly and magical and shit with toner. Then they put text EVERYWHERE since the readers can emphasize more with the chick if the damn scene is in first person. Y' got that, newbie?"

Ishimaru sort of understood. "Yes, I understand the basic preliminaries, but why do shoujo mangas always insist on having these moments consist of white backgrounds and an overload of tones? There are always so many sparkles and flowers. The characters' hair and clothes always sway in nonexistent and/or imaginary wind. Regardless of original hair colour, hair is always toned hair in these situations!"

Hinata shrugged. "It's a girl thing. It makes their hearts pound, makes everything super cheesy and emotional, and as a result, we get money. Get over it, man, hahah."

"I suppose you are correct..." 

"By the way, are you okay, Ishi?" Sonia said, "That's quite a thick book that hit you..."

Ishimaru shrugged. "I am used to being hit. I didn't feel a thing."

Everyone, even the head editor, slowly turned to stare at the man who was so used to being hit that he didn't feel pain. The silence was so evident that a pin could be heard if it dropped to the floor.

...

After Ishimaru gave valid corrections to the page (such as irregular placement of panels and such) that Tanaka found acceptable, he read over the page one last time. To summarize, a girl named Hinamura Yuki, after much heart pounding and questioning, confessed that she had a crush on her sempai, Yamagata Touji. Yamagata, after blushing, had admitted that he reciprocated her feelings. Immediately afterwards, they had hugged and locked lips.

Ishimaru nearly crumpled the page in his hands. Love wasn't as simple as that! Sure, he may be prejudiced because his own romance hadn't worked out... but it really wasn't as easy as "i liek u" "omgee i liek u 2" "ok lets marry n0w" "yaaaasss". 

In reality, love had so many challenges and obstacles that had to be faced, and more often than not, couples often ended up in tragedy and broke up forever. He knew that better than anyone else...

 _"I cannot believe you cheated on me after nearly two years of dating!_ _We're... we're over!!"_

_"Ishida... I..."_

A warm hand ruffling his hair snapped him out of his depressing thoughts. He instinctively swatted the hand away, only to see that the culprit was his boss.

Ishimaru huffed. "Please do not just touch me like that."

"Sorry," the head editor murmured, "...Y'know, I really do think I've seen you somewhere before. Did you change your hairstyle or somethin'?"

"...I believe we've had this conversation before. No. We have never met before. If you really think otherwise, perhaps we live near each other."

The larger male blinked. "Shit, well, if ya say so." He started to pack up his things as Sonia approached Ishimaru.

"Ishi, is that Marukawa's manga catalogue?" she asked, "What do you plan on doing with it?"

"Oh, ever since last night, I've been purchasing shoujo manga to help me since it is my first time working with manga," Ishimaru explained, "I figured that it would be difficult for me to work with manga if I've never read manga before, so I plan on reading all of these."

Sonia gasped. "A-All of them? That is hella difficult; we have over a thousand titles!"

"That is of no concern to me," Ishimaru grinned. "People can only truly shine when they have the opportunity to buckle down, study hard, and succeed. Ever since I was little, I have always read a lot and studied hard! One can only succeed and surpass the geniuses if they try their hardest and put in hard work in everything they do."

_BAM!_

Startled, the four Diamond underlings whipped around to see that the head editor had marched right into a bookshelf. Several books toppled over and landed on the floor as the male yelped and rubbed his forehead in agony. 

"Are you alright? You seem to have been possessed by an evil spirit from the underworld," Tanaka stated.

"Nah, none of that possession shit, 'm fine. Just.. out of it, I guess?"

"Boss!" Ishimaru piped up, "Be sure to apply ice on your forehead right away! That way the bruise will heal in a matter of days." No matter how much his boss got on Ishimaru's nerves, he required a bit of medical attention, and Ishimaru was always knowledgeable and there to help.

"Kid," the head editor said, "You sure we've never met before? I feel like I know you from somewhere-"

"Positive."

"......Got it, newbie. You guys are free to go. See ya." Clutching his head and looking crestfallen, the head editor strolled out of the office.

* * *

 A week passed, and Ishimaru was starting to see what everyone meant by "the cycle". 

The office was starting to revert back into the hellhole he had seen on his first day of work. The editors, including himself, were slowly dying as a result of lack of sleep. The only one seemingly unaffected was Sonia, who was smiling radiantly despite how rough work was. Her shining visage didn't help hide her fatigue, however, as her excessive shaking and under-eye bags were prominent. The chief editor was grumpier than usual and swore constantly. Tanaka was starting to smell awfully like cat litter due to him not bathing. Hinata was sickly pale and practically crawled everywhere because he lacked any more strength. He looked the worst of them all because even though everyone else was waiting on manuscripts now, Hinata's authors still had yet to send him storyboards, even though the release date was in thirteen days. Generally, everybody's moods could be reflected by the state of Tanaka's hair, which was messy and drooping down onto his face from lack of showers and hair gel. Even Ishimaru's white dress shirt was wrinkled.

"Fukawa-sensei, please," Hinata pleaded into the phone, "The deadline was three days ago. You're really behind schedule, I need your storyboard! Could you get it to me?"

Ishimaru could hear a woman screaming on the other end. Then, Hinata sighing. "Alright, alright, please. Thank you."

He slammed the phone onto the desk and whined, "AAARRRRGGGHHHH!!! This fucking BITCH... why does she always have to be so fucking troublesome? I'm in such deep shit because of her!"

"Are you  _still_ waiting on storyboards?" The chief editor glowered. 

Hinata gritted his teeth. "You know how Yamada and Fukawa are... they're real pains in the ass, those crackheads."

A postman entered Diamond. "I have a delivery for... Hinata Hajime?"

"Y-Yes... here..." Hinata said hoarsely. He shakily stepped towards the postman and took the package. As soon as the postman had turned his back towards Hinata, the editor collapsed into a pile of rejected storyboards.

"H-H-Hinata!" Ishimaru cried, "Are you okay?"

"Shut the fuck up, he's fine, newbie," the head editor said, then turned to Hinata. "Whose storyboard is that?"

"It's... It's Yamada's... thank God, it looks great. I'll OK it and tell him to hurry his fat ass with the manuscript."

"So Fukawa STILL hasn't touched her storyboard?"

Hinata clutched his head. "I think she's finally lost it, she's literally refusing to work on the fucking storyboard!"

"Shit... I'm gonna call her myself." The head editor picked up his work phone, pressed 6 on the dialpad, and waited. After ten seconds, he shouted,

"Fukawa! Get your fuckin' storyboard in or I swear to God I will pick it up myself!"

He must have left the phone on speaker phone, because the reply was loud and clear.

"Sh-sh-shut up! It's n-not like a-anyone actually w-wants t-to read this thing!"

"Don't fuckin' give me that bullshit! You said you'd be on schedule this time, damnit!"

"W-What... are you l-l-lecturing me b-because... I'm... UGLY? YOU MISOGYNIST PIG! STAY AWAY FROM ME!"

"What the fuck?! What the hell have you been smoking?! Just get the storyboard in... BY THIS EVENING!"

"NnnnggghhhHHH!!!! N-No one thinks th-th-the manga is g-good, anyway! I'm n-not inclined t-to do anything!" Fukawa then hung up, leaving the only sound in the room to be the dial tone. 

"Oh my God..." the head editor seethed, "Hinata, we're going to see this moody-ass author of yours!"

"Y-Yes boss..." Hinata replied weakly. He got up from the pile of storyboards only to trip on a pile of phone directories and fall face flat into yet another pile of papers. This time, he didn't get back up, and the sound of snoring wafted into the room.

"God damnit... Tanaka? Sonia? Anyone alive?" The head editor looked around the room. Tanaka was dragging a red pen across a manuscript with the strength of a dying seagull. Sonia was passed out on her laptop, drool running down her chin, still grinning. Everybody was dead, except for...

"Ishimaru! You're coming with me; get your ass up."

Ishimaru stammered, "M-Me? B-But... I'm new, surely-"

"Nobody else is alive. C'mon!" Ishimaru had no choice but to comply. He followed his boss into the elevator, into the parking lot, and into a black sports car. The head editor turned on the engine, exited the parking lot and pulled onto the road.

"Alright, newbie," he said, "Fukawa-sensei's a tough one. You heard her in that phone call, right?"

"Y-Yes, about that... what's wrong with her?" asked Ishimaru.

"I don't even know... she's mentally ill or some shit. She's super fucking self-deprecating but at the same time she's overconfident about her manga. Basically, she's a pain in the ass." The head editor made a U-turn.

"Oh. I see. And we're somehow going to convince her to get her storyboard submitted by this evening?"

"According to Hinata, she's only done five fucking pages."

"F-f-five pages?!" Ishimaru gasped, "Isn't she supposed to have a forty-page chapter in this issue?! And it's already been so long after the deadline!"

"Yeah, like I said, she's a prick. I'm surprised Hinata hasn't offed himself yet, he has one of the worst mangakas in history."

Ishimaru pursed his lips and a silence settled in the car. After several minutes of quiet, the head editor turned into a driveway and parked.

"Alright, let's go." Ishimaru climbed out of the car as the head editor locked the doors. They marched over to the front door of the house, and without knocking, the head editor charged through the unlocked door.

Ishimaru sputtered, running after him, "What the- boss, wait! That is rude to the-- what the hell?"

The inside of the house looked and smelled like death, just like Diamond currently did. At a desk, a woman, whom Ishimaru assumed to be Fukawa, sat doing... nothing. Her braided dark purple hair looked greasy and as Ishimaru stepped further into the room, he could deduce that the stench was coming from her.

He murmured, "Why does everyone involved in the manga business have such short lifespans..." 

The woman caught sight of the boss. "O-Oh... crap..."

"FUKAWA, YOU DAMNED IDIOT! Why don't you meet your fucking deadline?!" He hollered.

She pulled on her braids. "Nnnggghhhhh!!!"

"Don't 'NGGGHHH' me!" He mocked her, "Get your ass to work right now!"

Ishimaru whispered, "Er, boss, I don't think pressuring Fukawa-sensei by yelling at her is going to produce any results..."

The head editor growled. "Yelling's what I do! Fukawa's not the only one here under pressure, YOU HEAR ME, FUKAWA?!"

"Eeeeek!" Fukawa screeched, scratching the top of her head in frustration.

"Hey, is it really alright to leave her like this?" Ishimaru prodded, "She really doesn't--"

"Just wait, newbie."

Fukawa continued screeching and pulling on her hair for the next few seconds, and then she stopped. Her eyes glazed over...

And then she started drooling.

"Oh, Mr. Editor-in-Chief..." Fukawa blushed, grinning maniacally, "Dominating me like that... you must be a sadist or something..."

Ishimaru shuddered, "W-What the actual-"

"Shut the hell up, it's fine," the head editor replied, but he looked as if he was cringing.

Fukawa drawled, "Yes... that's r-right... l-look d-d-down on me like I'm y-your d-dog... I'm the slave of my m-m-master! Take me!"

Ishimaru was appalled. Fukawa Touko, a bestselling romance novelist and shoujo mangaka, was this kind of pervert in actuality? He swallowed out of apprehension, eyeing his boss nervously. He wasn't sure what Fukawa was going to do to him, now that she seemed aroused...

"Well, then,  _slave,_ " the head editor drawled, "Complete your storyboard right fuckin' now."

"R-Right a-away... heehee... I have a l-lot of ideas f-for the chapter now..." She giggled and returned to her chair.

The head editor exhaled in relief, and flipped out his phone. 

"Yeah, Tanaka? The newbie and I'll probably be at Fukawa-sensei's place the whole fucking day. Yeah, we got the situation under control. Yeah. Yeah. See ya." He stuffed his phone back into his pocket and turned to Ishimaru. "Alright, newbie, we'll be here waiting until the storyboard is done so that we can get it to Hinata a.s.a.p."

"Y-Yes, boss!" Ishimaru pulled up a chair to a separate table and sat. The head editor joined him and they sat together, waiting.

"S-So commanding... so d-d-demanding... heh..." Fukawa mumbled under her breath.

* * *

An hour later, Fukawa had finished the storyboard with great haste and determination.

"Thank you, Fukawa-sensei!" Ishimaru said, "Although next time please keep to your deadline!"

The boss barked, "Get yer fuckin' ass to work and start working on the manuscript first thing tomorrow. Call your assistants right now."

She ignored the head editor. Instead, she approached him slyly. "M-Master," she squealed, "Where's my r-reward?"

"...Are you fuckin' with me?"

"I wish I was... heeheeee... Anyway, isn't the m-master supposed to r-reward his s-slave when she d-does s-something good?"

His eyes darted around the room. "Shit, uh, n-no?"

Fukawa stopped right in front of him, licking her lips. She said, "Looks like I'll have to collect my reward instead." 

She swiftly placed her hands on his black cardigan and shoved it off of his shoulders. Then, she pushed the head editor to the ground. With his arms entangled in his own cardigan, he was helpless as he crashed to the ground with a loud thud. Fukawa grinned as she crouched down and toyed with his wifebeater.

"You're so muscular, master... it's so very... hot..." She leaned forward, stuck her tongue out, and licked his cheek.

"That's enough, Fukawa-sensei!" Ishimaru yelled, snatching up her arm and pulling her away from his boss. He grabbed the storyboard and helped the taller man up from the ground. "We're leaving, thank you for the storyboard!" He pulled the head editor by the arm and the two of them darted out of the house and jogged to the car. Once they were inside, the head editor revved the engine and sped away. 

The car ride back to the office was silent. Ishimaru wasn't quite sure how to talk to his boss, especially after what had just happened. Conversation just didn't seem possible at the moment. The head editor looked thoroughly drained of energy and the will to do anything. When they arrived at Marukawa, it was a few hours after closing time. Ishimaru led his boss to a break room and sat him down.

"You're clearly in no shape to do any more work," he said, "Rest for a moment, boss, you need it... I'll retrieve your stuff for you, straightaway!" Without waiting for a response, he marched off to Diamond and found the corpse with the brown ahoge. He bellowed, "Hinata, I have Fukawa-sensei's storyboard for you! She'll be working on the manuscript first thing tomorrow morning."

The corpse's head suddenly snapped up in shock. Hinata swiped the storyboard and mumbled a sloppy thanks to Ishimaru before promptly looking on the verge of death again. He flipped through the storyboard, occasionally making a mark in red pen here and there. Satisfied, Ishimaru went around the office to get both his and the editor-in-chief's bags. He silently saluted the editors of Diamond, who were probably about to pull an all-nighter at the office, and trotted over to the break room. On the way there, he got a can of iced coffee for the head editor to drink.

"Boss, I'm back," reported Ishimaru. He set the bags down on a table and sat down on a couch beside his boss. The latter gave no signs of noticing Ishimaru's presence. Ishimaru waved a hand in front of the editor-in-chief's face. 

No response.

He did it again. Silence.

Finally, he waved the can of iced coffee. The head editor blinked rapidly, then turned to Ishimaru with wide eyes. 

"...'This for me?"

"Yes! You look out of it, for... obvious reasons..., so I reckoned you needed a drink. Non-alcoholic and non-caffeinated, of course," beamed Ishimaru.

"Thanks, kid." The head editor accepted the can, cracked it open, and took a swig. "Heh, this coffee's still your favourite after all these years?"

Ishimaru cocked an eyebrow. "I don't follow. What do you mean by 'after all these years'...?"

"...You don't remember me?" the head editor asked.

"Remember...? Oh, er, boss, I believe we've had this conversation a multitude of times. We established that we've never met before-- w-wha-?!"

The editor-in-chief had spun around and pushed Ishimaru back so that he was lying across the couch. The former climbed on top of the latter and straddled him.

"B-B-Boss!!" stammered Ishimaru, "What is the meaning of this?!"

The head editor slipped off his cardigan, revealing his muscular build and wifebeater. "Maybe if I do this, you'll recall who the fuck I am..." Before Ishimaru could compute what was going on, his boss had pinned his arms down onto the couch above his head, leaving him vulnerable. Then, the head editor quickly leaned forward and locked lips with him.

"MMMPH!!!" Ishimaru screamed into the head editor' mouth. He attempted to squirm out of the hold but it was no use, as he was being held down onto the couch by his boss, who was currently topping him. He could only shriek in protest as he was kissed on the lips over and over again, and as his body was grinded against passionately...

He finally managed to push the offender off of him. "Please stop this!" They both panted heavily, staring intensely at each other. "What is wrong with you?! Why do you keep sexually harassing me for work?!"

"For work?! Do ya really think I fuckin' kissed you twice for work? I'm not  _that_ passionate about my job, you fucking dumbshit."

"... Wha... What?"

"Say, newbie," the head editor continued, "You still don't know what my name is, do you?"

"Ah! No, I do not..." He realized it was true, he had never gotten the opportunity to ask, and everybody just called him the boss.

"Then get this through your thick skull. My name is Oowada Mondo."

Oowada Mondo?

Oowada... Mondo.....

Oo........wada...........Mon......do................

Memories of a gang leader with a pompadour flashed in Ishimaru's brain. 

Memories of his former best friend.

Memories of his kyoudai... His beloved... Mondo...

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Ishimaru screamed, "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?! You... You're Oowada Mondo?!" 

Panicking, he mentally compared the past Oowada and the current Oowada. At Hope's Peak Academy, Oowada had been the Super High School Level Biker Gang Leader, so he had sported a golden brown pompadour and a gang coat. However, his boss had much shorter black hair and was the _head editor_ of a _girls' manga magazine_. They were both the same man he had loved so long ago?

"Yeah," Oowada sighed, "I can't believe you didn't recognize me. The only things that changed about me is that my hair grew out to its natural colour, it's a lot shorter, and I sometimes wear glasses. Jeez."

Ishimaru was shell-shocked. He couldn't believe it. His boss, whom he disliked fervently... was his first love from high school? No, he couldn't believe it...

But everything made so much sense.

The lilac eyes. The eyeliner. The nonchalant attitude. The crude language. The casual clothing. Why he had changed the department's name from Hope to Diamond. His reaction when he first cursed in front of him. Why he kept insisting they knew each other. Why he would stare at him strangely from time to time. His reaction to Sonia's nickname for him and the things he said. Why he had kissed him. 

He was Oowada Mondo, the one he loved ten years ago. His first, last, and only true love. 

"I knew it was you the instant I saw you," Oowada said, "Ten years, and you still look exactly the same. Well, except your hair kinda looks like Karasuma-sensei's from Assassination Classroom. Anyway, you're exactly the same as back then... you're even wearing a white dress shirt today, kinda like the white uniform you used to wear."

_What are you trying to do?_

"Your enthusiastic no-nonsense attitude and that fighting spirit. Bullies being the reason why you're so used to being hit and why you weren't affected when I threw that book at you. The way you care for your peers and do everything you can to help. How hard you worked to prove your worth. You haven't changed at all..."

_Why are you doing this?_

"Your last name's Ishimaru now. Huh, no matter I couldn't find an 'Ishida Kiyotaka' anywhere. I searched for you for years, you know... Oh well, different name, but the exact same person. Minus the cynical atmosphere around ya and yer swearing, heh... you never swore back at Hope's Peak."

"S-Stop..." Ishimaru whimpered, "Please stop, boss... the joke has gone on for far too long."

"Joke? Do you think this is a fucking joke?" Oowada grumbled, then laughed joylessly. "Yeah, I guess you would consider everything a joke."

"What? I'm being serious-!"

"Like hell you are! Like, shit, after almost two fucking years of happiness, you suddenly cut it all off on graduation day. Then you just fucking DISAPPEARED out of my life."

"N-No... I went to study abroad for university-!"

"Everything was just a joke to you, wasn't it? Our relationship, your 'feelings' for me, every damn thing was just a joke, wasn't it?!"

Ishimaru snapped. "That's enough, Oowada-kun! You're the one who cheated on me!"

"...What? What the hell... did you just say?"

"You're the one who saw everything as a... a joke! I saw the photos! I saw the physical proof of you having an affair!"

"Yer not making any fucking sense!" Oowada shouted, "WHAT photos? I never cheated on you!"

Tears streamed down Ishimaru's face. "The... the night before our first final exam of our last year of high school, you said you were going to hang out with your gang... but it turned out you were sneaking out to meet your girl! She was very beautiful... she looked very womanly and the two of you were leaning against your bikes, looking so... just... infatuated with one another. You never looked that way around me... I saw the pictures! Don't try to deny the evidence now... especially not eight years after it happened!" 

Oowada blinked. "...Who sent you the photos?"

"I do not know, they were anonymously sent," Ishimaru grumbled, "But that is irrelevant! It doesn't change the fact that you were cheat--"

"No, Ishida-- I mean, Ishimaru, listen to me, please," pleaded Oowada, "The photos were probably real, but I wasn't lying when I said I was going to hang out with my gang."

"Impossible, I-"

"The girl you're probably talkin' about... her name was Nobata Houka, the leader of our rival gang at the time. We were making negotiations that night, and they went well. Did the chick in your pictures have bright red hair?"

"...Yes... Yes! She certainly did!"

"Fuck," Oowada spat, "Fuck... I seriously wasn't doing anythin' to her... I wouldn't betray my boyfriend like that, nor would I lay my hands on a chick like that, damnit! That means... someone fucking took those pictures and sent them to you on purpose to split the two of us up...? FUCK!!"

Ishimaru gaped at the sputtering former gang leader. "You mean, you really weren't...?"

"No! I wasn't! I... and all this time, I thought you had gotten tired of me. God damnit, all this shit went down 'cause of a fucking misunderstanding...?"

Ishimaru struggled to process all of this new information. His hellish boss was, in actuality, Oowada Mondo, his first love. Mondo had searched for him for years after their breakup. His boyfriend had not cheated on him, he had just misunderstood the circumstances. Someone had sabotaged their relationship and that had resulted in them splitting up unnecessarily. 

"I..." he finally said, "I suppose so."

He looked into Oowada's lilac eyes; the eyes he had once fancied so dearly. They seemed to be examining him and staring into his very soul. Then, the former gang leader reached out and tenderly wiped Ishimaru's tears away.

Finally, Oowada spoke. "Does this mean I can love ya... again?"

"...Huh?"

"I never stopped loving you, y'know. Ten years, and I could never keep my mind off of you." Ishimaru's heart skipped a beat. "I tried so hard to stop, 'cause I thought you had just played around with me; thought you just saw me as a plaything or a toy. But now that I know that's not true..."

"I...! I never saw you as a toy! That is ridiculous! I doted on you so much that I got complaints for public displays of affection? Me! The top disciplinary committee member, getting complaints for PDA! I truly loved you back then!"

"I know..." Oowada mumbled, "I wish you still loved me."

"!!!"

The head editor smiled. "When we were arguing just now, you called me Oowada-kun. It really blasted me to the past; you even said that name in the same voice you used to use to berate me at Hope's Peak for being a 'disruption to society' or whatever shit you called me. We fucking _hated_ each other back when you called me Oowada-kun. Heh. Good times."

"..." Before they had become best friends, and much before they had become boyfriends, the former hall monitor and former gang leader were mortal enemies. Their relationship during their first months of high school consisted of Ishida handing Oowada detention slips and Oowada cursing Ishida.

"Well, it was nice havin' this talk, but I gotta go now." Oowada put his cardigan on, got off of the couch, and got his bag. He strolled to the break room's exit, then paused. 

"Hey, Ishida," he turned around, "Brace yourself, 'cause I'm gonna make you say you love me again."

"W-W-W-What?!" stuttered Ishimaru, "That is absurd! You can't just run off and declare such a thing after leaving me miserable for eight years!!" He stood up from the couch and stormed out of the break room. By the time he reached the corridor, however, the head editor was already in a closing elevator. Oowada, taking note of Ishimaru, waved goodbye before the elevator doors shut.

Ishimaru shouted in frustration before marching back to the break room. He sunk into the couch, clutching his spinning head. 

"What is the meaning of this..." Ishimaru whispered to himself, "Everything... was a misunderstanding on my part?" He glanced beside him at the spot on the couch he had been pinned onto only minutes before and flushed furiously.

The (untrue) revelation that his boyfriend of nearly two years had cheated on him had completely ruined him. The emotional trauma and pain had completely changed who he was as a person. And yet, eight years later, he was discovering that everything shattered into ruins because he had jumped to conclusions? 

"No way," he said shakily, "This isn't such a simple issue that it can be resolved with an apology or an explanation..."

The more embarrassing realization was that Ishimaru had failed to recognize his boss as his first love in the first place. "But it's reasonable, right?? It's normal to forget someone after eight fucking years... and it's not like he really looks the same without the ridiculous bleached pompadour. If I had recognized him, I would have quit on the spot-"

Suddenly, Oowada's words came rushing back to him. 

_I searched for you for years. I never stopped loving you. Ten years, and I could never keep my mind off of you. I wish you still loved me._

_I'm gonna make you say you love me again._

Ishimaru's heartbeat sped rapidly. What if everything was true? What if Oowada really was faithful until the end? Did he still love him now, like he said?

If that were the case, could he come to love Oowada again? Afterall, he was the one who fell in love first ten years ago. He could do it again, right?

Hell no. Oowada had left him scarred and emotionally broken for the past eight years. Eight. Fucking. Years.

Ishimaru hollered, "As if I could just be like, 'Oh, is that so, I forgive you, Mondo-kun'! To hell with love! To hell with YOU! He's never going to make me say 'I love you'! NEVER!"

He snatched his stuff from the floor and stomped out of Marukawa Shoten. He fumed in his seat for the whole train ride and his whole walk home. He walked onto his street, into his townhouse complex, and as he approached his house, his neighbor's door swung open.

And out emerged Oowada Mondo, holding a dog leash with a small white puppy on the other end.

"Huh? Hey! Looks like we're neighbors..." Oowada blushed and rubbed the back of his neck, then he grinned. "Here to profess yer love already?"

"B-B-Boss....?! I... no... not a chance! This is where I've been living for the past two years!" stammered Ishimaru.

"Two years?! Are you saying that the man I was looking for for the past eight years was literally right beside me for the past two fucking years?" He breathed heavily, then sighed. "Well, whatever. Reminds me of how our dorms were across from each other's at Hope's Peak. See ya, _neighbor._ " He walked over to Ishimaru's house, leaned forward, and kissed the top of Ishimaru's head before brushing past him.

_Ba-dump. Ba-dump._

He furiously rummaged his bag for his key, shoved it in the keyhole, and entered his house. Upon shutting the door, he slid down to the floor against his door.  

_Ba-dump. Ba-dump._

_Why... is my heart beating so loudly against my chest?_ Ishimaru thought,  _There's no way that I'm in love with him. Not again._

However, his heart refused to stop pounding rapidly. Oh, how he wished he didn't have to go to work tomorrow, where he worked on shoujo manga with his ex-boyfriend. Ishimaru didn't think it was possible, but he hated his job even more now. 

He lightly touched the spot on his head that Oowada had kissed. He felt blood rushing up to his cheeks, and knew that his face was a bright pink. He weakly took off his shoes and headed to his office. There, he rummaged through his stuff and found his old high school yearbook. He flipped through the pages to see Oowada's school portrait and their class photo. In the photo, Oowada had his arms around Ishimaru and another classmate. The three of them were smiling broadly without a care in the world. They looked so innocent and so unaware of the world's cruelty.

He turned some more pages. Then, he saw the pages he was looking for. On these pages were the entries for "Most Popular" (Enoshima Junko), "Most Athletic" (Oogami Sakura), and so on. He scanned the pages for what he was looking for, and found it. 

"Best Couple: Oowada Mondo & Ishida Kiyotaka."

In the following photo, the two then-boyfriends had their arms around each other lovingly. Ishida was resting his head on his lover's chest, while Oowada was too flustered to look at the camera. Instead, the two of them were only looking at each other, with nothing but love in their eyes.

A tear droplet fell from Ishimaru's chin and splattered on the yearbook photo. Could they really just repeat what they had in the past?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: A formidable love rival from the sales department of Marukawa Shoten threatens to steal Oowada away from Ishimaru.  
> 


	3. Rivalry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A notable employee of Marukawa and Ishimaru's old high school classmate declares his love for Oowada. Will Ishimaru be able to sort out his feelings before it's too late?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The choppy, drawn-out, heavily dialogue-based, shouldn't-have-been-updated-so-late chapter in which 1% is the editing firm AU and 99% is ishimondo :^)

The first thing Ishimaru heard when he walked into Diamond department was screaming.

"Eh? What the FUCK did you just say?"

He jumped slightly, startled at hearing his boss yelling first thing in the morning. But then again, Oowada was  _always_ yelling, just like in the past...

"U-Um...! I want you to scrap Yamada-sensei's chapter out of this month's magazine."

The male who was speaking to the boss was significant shorter than most men. He was about the same size as Kuzuryuu, the editor that had explained the cycle to Ishimaru, give or take five centimeters. He was clearly not an editor, for he had on a pressed and tailored indigo suit. His golden brown hair was short yet unruly, and his hazel eyes were piercing. Ishimaru couldn't shake the thought that he recognized this man from somewhere...

Oowada snarled, "Why the fuck would I scrap the fatass from this issue?"

"You d-do know that whenever Yamada-sensei's works are featured in a Diamond magazine, the sales decrease? I'm saying this f-for the sake of our magazine. Since you had a chapter from Yamada-sensei last month, it only makes sense to cut him this time to ensure th-that your sales go up again."

The boss blinked slowly, struggling to comprehend the man's reasoning. After a few agonizingly slow moments, his eyes widened in realization.

"...Well. _Cough._ H-Hey! Where's yer fuckin' proof, like survey polls and sales graphs 'n shit, then, huh, Fujisaki?!"

 _Fujisaki._ The name definitely rang a bell in Ishimaru's head, but he just couldn't match the name with the face. He had always been bad at that.

"All here, Oowada." The man, Fujisaki, whipped out several sheets of paper and slammed them on the editor-in-chief's desk. The boss sluggishly picked them up and analyzed them. 

Then, he mumbled, "Damn... looks like you're fuckin' right. Hinata, what's yer input on this?"

"Y'know what," Hinata replied, "I'm fine with whatever. It could be one less slow-as-hell author to deal with this month."

"...Aiight then. Fine, we'll cut Yamada this time. Tanaka, look through our list of replacement mangakas and choose one of th' bitches."

"Thank you so much, Oowada!" Fujisaki beamed, "I'm looking forward to this issue of Diamond!"

"Whatever. Now fuck off."

Fujisaki gathered his papers and walked towards the exit. He made eye contact with Ishimaru, reached the exit, then did a double-take. 

"Wait..." whispered Fujisaki, "Ishida, is that you?"

Ishimaru gasped. "You're... You're Fujisaki Chihiro!"

"Yes, I am!" he responded, holding out his palm, "I can't believe it's you, Ishida! You haven't changed one bit!"

Ishimaru stood up to shake Fujisaki's hand. "Well, I've changed a bit, actually... my name is not Ishida anymore. I go by Ishimaru Kiyotaka."

"Oh! I'm sorry-"

"You two!" the boss barked, "Get yer asses back to work!

"Y-Yes!" Fujisaki exited Diamond, leaving behind a very reminiscent Ishimaru. He remembered Chihiro, one of his best friends at Hope's Peak Academy. He was the Super High School Level Programmer, a genius who had programmed the very first Artificial Intelligence, along with many other beneficial and innovative programs. He glanced at Fujisaki's retreating figure and remembered when Fujisaki had been cross-dressing as a girl because of a weakness complexity he had been harbouring. Ishimaru smiled. He was very proud of Fujisaki for working towards of his goal of getting stronger and succeeding! Chihiro had become such a wonderful man-

Oowada hit him on the head with a rolled up magazine. "Stop daydreamin' and get to work!"

"Y-Y-You didn't give me any assignments! You must have extremely short-term memory or something, boss," Ishimaru sputtered indignantly. 

At that, Sonia giggled but quickly stopped and avoided Oowada's menacing biker glare. 

The ex-biker squinted. "Ya sure I didn't?"

"Positive!"

"Well, then, I'll give ya some!" The head editor marched over to his desk, retrieved a mountain of documents, and slammed it on Ishimaru's desk.

The former disciplinarian stared, flabbergasted at the stacks of papers on his desk. "...Boss, what is all of this?"

"Heh, all the plot outlines, storyboards, and final drafts of every story we've published in the past five years," mused Oowada.

"Er... what am I supposed to do with all of these?"

"Well, newbie, since you were complainin' 'bout the lack o' work," the boss grinned, "You can read all of these and learn yourself 'bout shoujo manga."

"First of all, it's 'teach yourself,' and secondly, you expect me to read all of these?"

"Read all of 'em and figure out why the storyboard was laid out like it was, and why th' corrections were made to th' storyboard. If you can't do it, then-"

Ishimaru huffed, irritated. "You underestimate me, boss, I'll have everything done by tomorrow!"

"Whatever you say, newbie. I ain't believin' ya." The boss returned to work, and Ishimaru, with the fury of a thousand suns, set to reading through the mountain of papers on his desk.

* * *

Okay, so maybe he should have thought this through a bit more.

With his whole 8-hour workday, Ishimaru had managed to analyze 75% of the documents that Oowada had given him. And now, he had to find a way to take the remaining 25% home with him on the subway. He ground his teeth in annoyance. He couldn't focus entirely on the task at hand because he was recalling what had happened to him a week before. After ten years, his first lover, Oowada Mondo, found him and declared his undying love for Ishimaru. Throughout the day, he couldn't stop replaying what had been said to him. Oowada had never stopped thinking about him, never once cheated on him, had always loved him. Oowada loved him and wanted Ishimaru back. And Ishimaru-

Ishimaru slapped his cheeks and shook his head vigorously. _No! Stop thinking about the boss like this!_

"Whoa man, th' fuck is wrong with ya?"

He glanced at the entrance to see the very man he was thinking about, his boss, walking in.

"Nothing. _Cough._  I uh, I thought you left..." Ishimaru stammered.

"Nah, had a meeting with Sales," the head editor replied. He eyed the tower of paper behind Ishimaru. "You're still not done? Told ya it's impossible."

 _Bastard! I could have finished but a certain someone was occupying my freaking thoughts!_ Ishimaru internally screamed. Instead, he calmly responded, "No, I am not, so I am taking the documents home."

"Eh, really? Y'have a car?"

"No, I take the subway."

"What? There's no fucking way you can take th' train with so many papers, you idiot," sighed Oowada, "I have my car, I'll drive ya."

Ishimaru stiffened. "N-No... it's fine! I would not want to inconvenience you, boss!"

"Huh? Don't worry 'bout that, it's no trouble at all, newbie. Remember? We're literally next door neighbors."

"...Ah!" That's right. Another one of the many horrifying things Ishimaru had learned a week ago was that Oowada Mondo had lived next to him for the past two years. He shook his head to deny the offer.

"I really am fine, so... I will be on my way now!" He spun around only to knock the papers off of his desk. "Ack! Oh no!"

"Clutz," spited Oowada as he and Ishimaru crouched down to pick the papers up from the ground. They did the task silently, the only sounds in the room being the occasional rustling of papers. Ishimaru was secretly seething in his own anger and shame. He had to stop letting thoughts of his former lover distract him from his work! It was unacceptable to think that he was letting himself do any worse than his potential best. He needed to stop letting his thoughts go astray, stop thinking about pointless notions like love, and work his ass off!

His thoughts came to an abrupt halt when Oowada reached for a page from a storyboard and his hand brushed against Ishimaru's.

Ishimaru frantically backed away from the head editor, sputtering nonsense and breathing heavily. Oowada stared at the panicking editor, then sighed.

"You really haven't changed at all," he mumbled.

"..." Here Ishimaru was, just having finished lecturing himself about thinking about love at work, and yet... Oowada Mondo...

"You were always so clumsy," Oowada grinned, "Even the oh-so-flawless disciplinary student tripped on flat surfaces and knocked all sorts of things to the ground. And you always got so worked up when I showed you even the slightest signs of affection."

"O-O-Of course I did!" hollered Ishimaru, "Public displays of affection weren't appropriate in school and they definitely are NOT in work, either! You think you can do anything just because you are the editor-in-chief, don't you?!"

"Yeah, I fuckin' do." To prove his point, Oowada leaned in and gently pecked Ishimaru on the cheek.

The kiss and the sound of someone entering Diamond caused Ishimaru to freeze in place.

"Oowada, you f-forgot your cellphone at the Sales meeting- Oh, w-what's going on here?"

Fujisaki Chihiro stood behind Ishimaru, taking in the scene of two editors crouching on the floor amidst a sea of papers. 

"Oh, Fujisaki," Oowada said, "Ishida-- I mean, Ishimaru knocked his work off of his desk."

"H-his work?! But there're so many pieces of paper...!"

"Right? Way too much for a newbie like him. Anyway, thanks, just set the phone on the table right beside ya."

Fujisaki complied, then glanced worriedly down at Ishimaru. "Ishimaru, are you alright? You look... off, but I'm sorry if I'm totally wrong."

"I'm fine, but you do not have to apologize," responded Ishimaru.

"Oh, alright," the golden blond fidgeted. "Well, I'll be taking my leave now. The next train is coming in a little bit. See you tomorrow."

"Ah, Fujisaki, please wait! I also take the train home, I'll go with you." Ishimaru rushed to finish collecting his papers.

"Okay!" Fujisaki waited as Ishimaru gathered all of the documents in his arms.

"Hey, you sure you don't need me to drive you, newbie?" Oowada inquired, "You might screw up and knock the papers down on the train."

Ishimaru furrowed his brows as the head editor snickered at him. "No thank you, boss, I will manage. Goodnight."

He stomped out of the office with Fujisaki, holding onto his "homework" extra tightly so that they wouldn't fall out of his grasp. 

"It really has been a while, Ishida," Fujisaki said as they entered the elevator, "About... ten years?"

"Yes, it certainly has been a long time," Ishimaru responded, "But I truly am glad I could meet you again after all this time!"

"Thanks, Ishida! Ah, wait, you said you're called Ishimaru now?"

"Unfortunately, my parents divorced when I was 18, so I go by Ishimaru, my mother's surname."

"Oh... Oh no... I'm s-sorry..." There were a few minutes of awkward silence as they exited Marukawa Shoten and walked alongside each other in the cool and crisp night. Then, Ishimaru cleared his throat.

"It is fine, Fujisaki," Ishimaru sighed, "To be frank, I saw it coming. Their relationship started turning sour when I first started high school, and it seemingly only got worse and worse, so when it happened, it wasn't really a shock."

Fujisaki looked disheartened. "W-When you first started high school? I was friends with you from almost the beginning a-and I never knew... wow..."

"Well, I was not the type to disclose information about my personal life to others, you would know that."

"Yeah, that's definitely true. I like 'Ishimaru' better than 'Ishida' anyway-- Yikes, the train! It's here!" They sprinted and barely got into the subway before the doors closed. They struggled to catch their breaths, then continued having small talk.

"So, Fujisaki, what do you do in Marukawa?"

"Mm, w-when I first got hired at Marukawa two years ago, I was in charge of programming and graphic designing."

"So you do that now? Ha ha! As expected of the former Super High School Level Programmer!"

"A-Actually... um... I transferred to the Sales department last year."

"Huh? Why? You're spectacular at computers!"

"Yes, but..." Fujisaki scratched his head. "It was really boring. I didn't get to program or design what I wanted like I could before and during Hope's Peak. I had to do what management wanted. I had limits on what I could do, and I hated not being able to do what I love fully. So I requested a transfer to Sales because I realized I cared more about how well our company's works sell than what our website looks like."

"You're admirable! You knew exactly what you wanted and worked towards your goal!"

"Oh, you, it's not THAT admirable, and besides, I still do programming for Marukawa on the side. Anyway, what about you, Ishimaru? I never expected that you'd be a shoujo manga editor, of all things."

"I actually transferred to Marukawa to continue editing literature... that's what I did at Onodera Publishing for two years, but for some reason, I was placed in Diamond."

"Oh man, that's actually pretty funny..."

"Please stop giggling, Fujisaki..."

"S-Sorry... Well, I didn't expect Mon-chan to become a shoujo manga editor either, the head editor at that, but life goes on, I guess."

Ishimaru squinted, not quite sure if he had heard that right. "...Mon-chan?"

"Yeah, I call Mondo 'Mon-chan', I guess you never called him cute nicknames in high school?" For a split second, Ishimaru could swear he saw a sinister and angered shadow in Fujisaki's facial expression, but it came and went so quickly that he dismissed it as an illusion. A dream. A lighting trick from the subway.

Fujisaki said, "Well, this next stop's where I get off, so I'll see you tomorrow, Ishimaru!" He squeezed his way through the crowd and exited as the doors closed.

* * *

He had slept at an ungodly hour last night, but it didn't matter, for Ishimaru had finished his whole assignment in one day. He even wrote a thorough report detailing his findings! He couldn't wait to arrive at the office and laugh at his boss' face for claiming he couldn't do it. He'd show Oowada! 

As he took the subway to work, he recalled checking his high school yearbook again the night before, suspecting that Fujisaki was the other friend Oowada had his arms around in their class photo. He was right. Oowada had his right arm around Fujisaki and his left arm around Ishida. The camera caught the programmer mid-laugh, but he still managed to look adorable and radiant. Ishimaru sighed at the nostalgic photo. Ten years ago, Fujisaki had a weakness complex and crossdressed as a girl to hide behind his weakness. Now, Fujisaki had conquered his weakness, evident by his buffer stature, reduced stuttering, and lack of women's clothing. He was proud of Fujisaki, like a long-separated doting father; Fujisaki was so strong and so brave, and now he was a successful sales representative!

He got off the train at the station nearest Marukawa and met Tanaka on his way to the office. They casually greeted each other and trudged towards Marukawa together. 

"Say, Tanaka," Ishimaru started the conversation, "Do you know the sales representative Fujisaki Chihiro?"

Tanaka remarked, "Curious about my Earthly relationships with the pathetic humans of this world, red-eyed demon? I do know of the one you call 'Fujisaki,' he is of small stature and possesses eyes of gold like the 31st demon of Hell himself!"

"Erm, do you know anything beyond his appearance and physical similarities to... demons?"

"Why, of course, foolish red-eyed one. I am in possession of the All-Seeing Eye! According to legend, Fujisaki was the one who convinced the boss to join Marukawa Shoten."

"Oh, really? That is new to me," Ishimaru said as they entered the office building. 

"As I look back into the past, I can say that they also went to the same university together."

"Same university, huh?" Even though Oowada was an employee at an editing firm, Ishimaru never realized that that meant he had received post-secondary education. It didn't really seem possible to him, afterall, he had been a gang leader.

He found himself wondering about the ten years of Oowada's life that he didn't know about. What did he study in university? Was he a diligent worker or was he the same as he was in Hope's Peak? How did he end up becoming the editor-in-chief of Diamond? What happened to the Crazy Diamonds? Did Oowada find other lovers during that time?

"Earth to Ishimaru? Hello? Red-eyed one?"

Ishimaru blinked, realizing he was already on the fourth floor of Marukawa. What was he thinking, just now? That he... wanted to get to know Oowada better? No, that's preposterous! People should only know about the past decade of someone's personal life if... if they love them... and he definitely... didn't love Oowada...

"Oh, Tanaka, I must have zoned out."

"Are you sure your soul was journeying to the depths of Hell while your mortal body remained here to try to deceive me?"

"N-No... really, I just happen to naturally have red eyes; I'm not a demon with supernatural powers."

"Wow, you guys sure are getting along!" Sonia said as they entered Diamond.

"Indeed, it has only been a month, but the red-eyed one is a peculiar character," Tanaka said, "He is our coworker, afterall."

"Yeah, he's just a huge noob," the boss drawled as he walked in.

"W-W-What?!" Ishimaru screeched as his coworkers greeted Oowada.

"So, did you finish yer work, newbie? Bet you didn't, and that you're just cocky--"

Ishimaru shoved the report he wrote into Oowada's chest. "Right here, boss."

Oowada blinked at the report, baffled. Then, he pulled out his reading glasses and read through it. He looked at Ishimaru again in amazement.

"Wanna be in charge of a mangaka?"

* * *

For the first time since Ishimaru started working at Marukawa, he felt proud of himself and happy to be at work. 

In just a month, he had proven to the tyrannical boss of Diamond that he was a hardworking and worthy employee. In just a month, he had excelled his training and been assigned to supervise his first mangaka! He was to be the new editor of Pekoyama Peko, an aspiring shoujo mangaka, who needed a new editor because her former editor, Kuzuryuu Fuyuhiko, had quit. Ishimaru was saddened to hear that Kuzuryuu had quit, but then again, the short blond didn't really look like the type to work on girls' comics. But then again, neither did he or Oowada.

He boarded the subway in high spirits and saw Fujisaki. The sales representative was once again wearing a suit, though today's was dark green with a brown tie. Ishimaru strode over to the empty seat beside the salesman and sat down.

"Hello, Fujisaki! Good work today."

"Ishimaru! Yes, you too!" the sales representative piped, "You seem like you're in a good mood, did something good happen?"

"Indeed! Today, I was assigned a mangaka even though I've only been working here for a month!"

"Oh... really?"

When Ishimaru was called Ishida, he was a serially naïve and oblivious boy, causing problems for him socially. But after the traumatic breakup ten years ago, he had become increasingly better at analyzing emotions and gained a stronger intuition. But why was it that at this moment, within Fujisaki, he sensed hostility and resentment?

"Um... yes..." Ishimaru noted, "Is something the matter, Fujisaki? You seem a little off."

Fujisaki glanced at him, a blank expression on his face. Then, he scoffed.

"S-So what if you have a mangaka to supervise in just a month?"

"...Eh? Fujisaki?"

"It's not like you're at Marukawa to become a shoujo manga editor. You snuck your way into this company like a snake for impure reasons and you know it."

"What? No, I told you I transferred to continue editing literature-"

"Y-you probably only came to Marukawa because you knew Mon-chan worked here."

"Are you kidding me? I do not understand why you're accusing me of that, I had no idea that my boss was Oowada until a week after I transferred."

"Sure you didn't. You c-came to Marukawa just to play around with him again."

If there was one thing about Ishimaru that hadn't changed over the past decade, it was his tendency to get emotional. He had an "emotional scale" ranging from the numbers 1-10, 1 being overly ecstatic and 10 being miserable/furious/in pain. As of now, he was a solid 3 on the scale. He was utterly confused at Fujisaki's too-sudden personality change. It had come from seemingly nowhere, because during highschool and yesterday, Fujisaki had been so kind. How was the same salesman snapping at him and accusing him of such horrible things?

Ishimaru responded quietly, "To... play around with him again?"

"Just like you did in high school," Fujisaki added, "You toyed with him for two years until you got sick of him. Then you just disappeared and left Mon-chan alone to suffer. Do you have any idea how much you've hurt him? How m-messed up he got because of you? And now you're coming back because you want him as a plaything again. I saw everything yesterday. How you purposely knocked over the papers to get Oowada to help you, how he brushed against your hand, how you coaxed him into kissing you. Disgusting. He's completely falling for your trap, you're heartless and you need to stop right now."

Ishimaru's emotional scale reached a four.

"Fujisaki, forgive me for saying this, but, what do you know about me?" Ishimaru questioned, "My feelings for Oowada were true and I would appreciate if you did not warp my circumstances to your own understanding. And yesterday's incident didn't happen because I wanted it to happen! Why are you even saying all of this? You were always so kind, why are you so upset today?"

"Th-that was before you hurt Mon-chan! Sure, I liked being friends with you, but then you threw him away, and I've hated you since! I was only pretending to be nice to you yesterday because I didn't expect that you'd have the balls to snake into the place where he works."

Emotional scale reached five.

Fujisaki continued, "After you threw him away, he was devastated! He became completely depressed and emotionally unstable because his boyfriend dumped him then disappeared! For ten years! And you don't even care! I'm a much better match for Mon-chan!"

Six.

Ishimaru heard the subway announcing that they had reached Fujisaki's stop. "Er, Fujisaki, don't you get off here?"

"No, this isn't my stop."

Ishimaru was puzzled, but he didn't question the salesman any further. In fact, he desperately wanted to move away from Fujisaki, away from all the criticism and judgement, but the train was now crowded and he was trapped with all the heartbreaking accusation. Thankfully, Fujisaki was silent for the rest of the ride, seemingly having deflated and blown off all his steam at Ishimaru. But Ishimaru's relief was short-lived, for when he got off the train, Fujisaki got off with him.

His emotional scale reached a seven, and he speed-walked to his townhouse. He had enough of people not knowing anything and going off about his choices in his relationship. First it was Oowada, and now, even Fujisaki? He started to tear up, and he wiped his eyes to prevent the tears from overflowing. 

He finally reached his house but he struggled to find his keys in his bag. He had a lot of things in his bag, such as volumes of Pekoyama-sensei's, his new mangaka's, manga, work from Tanaka and Oowada, and the such.

"What are you doing here?"

He spun around to see that he had not escaped Fujisaki. The sales representative stood in front of Oowada's house, eyeing Ishimaru in disbelief and perturbation.

"I live here," Ishimaru stated.

"Right next to Mon-chan? You even stalked him?"

"No, I've been living here for the past two years and didn't find out Oowada lived right next door to me until after I got employed at Marukawa."

"Right, how did you even end up b-begging for jobs at p-publishing companies, anyway? Weren't you all h-high and mighty in high school about how you were going to become a politician or a lawyer or something judicial? Right, because you wanted to find your old toy. Stay away from him. He's mine!"

Eight. The tears returned. "That is none of your business, Fujisaki! Perhaps I had a change of heart! And... he's... y-yours?"

"Th-that's right! I'm way more suited for Mon-chan than you are, and I was there for him w-when you dumped him," Fujisaki whispered, "When you left him all alone, he turned to his gang to help him forget his despair. He killed police officers and the leaders of other biker gangs, he street raced recklessly and got himself hospitalized, he even lost it completely and lost his virginity in his grief!"

Ishimaru's emotional scale reached a nine. His chest tightened in pain, and his head was spinning in agony. Mondo had suffered so much because of him? His ex-lover had spiraled into insanity and had been so grieved because of his misunderstanding? He was a terrible person. He had caused Mondo so much pain... and Chihiro...

"I was there for Mon-chan! I was the one who got him back on track and made sure he went to university. I went out with him and was there for him through everything. I made the hurting fade away and now he's finally okay thanks to me, but now you came back to toy with him again and ruin everything! Leave him alone! You're just a selfish and conceited bastard and don't you dare steal him away from me!"

Ten.

Tears streamed down his face, and before he could stop himself, he was bawling. He clenched his teeth but the pathetic whimpering and strangled cries still managed to escape his throat. He covered his face with his hands and shook as tear droplets splattered on the concrete ground.

Fujisaki screamed, "He doesn't want you anymore! He moved on; he's done with you playing with his heart! I love him; get lost, asshole!"

_Fujisaki hates me._

_He loves Oowada. He loves Mondo. Mondo...!_

The door behind Fujisaki swung open, revealing a wide-eyed Oowada.

"M-Mon-chan! Hi!" said Fujisaki.

Oowada glanced at the sobbing figure of Ishimaru, then at Fujisaki. "...Guys," he said, "What's going on? You're goin' to piss off th' whole townhouse complex." 

"N-Nothing, Mon-chan! I came over because I wanted to hang out-"

"Go home, Chi."

"W-What?" Fujisaki stammered, "But-"

Oowada's voice became dangerously low. "Go home," he growled, "'M not in the mood."

Fujisaki flinched at Oowada's tone and blatant rejection, and scampered away, embarrassed. Leaving the ex-lovers alone.

"Hey, you okay?" Oowada reached out to cup Ishimaru's face in his hand, but Ishimaru inhaled sharply and backed away. He dove his hand into his bag, immediately found his keys, and rushed inside.

"Oi, Ishimaru!" Oowada yelled as he raced over and caught the door just as it was about to shut. He yanked it open and stepped inside Ishimaru's house.

"N-No! What are you doing?!" screeched Ishimaru, "You cannot just barge into someone else's house like this, uninvited!" He tried to shove Oowada away, but the editor-in-chief was unrelenting. The latter grabbed Ishimaru's wrists, shoved the hands off of his chest, and held Ishimaru's arms in the air.

"Ishimaru, please, don't fight me. I heard everything, since I just got home... please tell me if you're alright."

Ishimaru lied. "I am fine, boss! It's just that Fujisaki's passive-aggressive attitude seriously ticked me off, and I was so irritated and helpless to stop his attitude that the tears just flowed, really, and I-"

"The truth, Ishimaru. You may have a habit of crying at the simplest things, but just by looking at your face... I saw the pain etched on your facial expression, I know you're not 'fine.' I need the truth."

He looked up into Oowada's pleading lilac eyes. Eleven. Ishimaru didn't even know it was possible for his emotional scale to reach eleven, but it did. Only Oowada could make him so distorted and agonized. Only Oowada affected him so much. Only Oowada confused his romantic feelings so much. Only Mondo.

"No, I'm not alright," he finally sobbed.

Oowada said nothing in response. Instead, he released Ishimaru's arms only to wrap his own around Ishimaru's body in a soft embrace.

"W-Wha?!" shrilled Ishimaru, "Let go of me this instance!"

The embrace only tightened, and in addition, Oowada planted chaste kisses onto the top of Ishimaru's head. The latter squirmed under the sensation of soft lips on his head, but Oowada held tight. Tears refused to stop streaming down Ishimaru's face and soaked into Oowada's t-shirt. Oowada kept one arm around Ishimaru's toned body as the other hand came up to hold Ishimaru's chin. Then, he tilted Ishimaru's chin up and leaned down to meet the shorter male's lips.

Ishimaru resisted at first, denying any feelings of love for Oowada, but it was no use. Oowada was physically stronger than he was, and all the affection Oowada was showering him with caused his thoughts to cease.

"Kiyotaka..." moaned Oowada, as he kissed Ishimaru repeatedly on the mouth.

Suddenly, at the sound of his first name, he couldn't deny how much he had yearned for Oowada's affection for the past decade. He cried as he finally accepted how much he had wanted to be in this warm embrace again, how he had just wanted to be held and comforted by Oowada, just like back then...

Ishimaru paused between rounds of wracking sobs.  _Just like back then? Just like back then._ Ishimaru was always thinking, "Just like back then," when it came to Oowada Mondo.

He pushed away from Oowada, gasping for air and a remedy for his throbbing head. 

"What's wrong?," Oowada asked, "You don't want to be kissed?" Ishimaru shook his head. Oowada responded, "Alright, I won't force them on you if you don't want them."

Oowada had always been like this. So gentle, so careful, and so considerate. He never made a move without consent from Ishida, stopping immediately when Ishida expressed discomfort. He really hadn't changed.

_Always been like this? Really hadn't changed?_

"Ishimaru..." Oowada whispered, "Do you love me?"

Ishimaru stiffened, struggling to form an answer, his vocal chords and voice box malfunctioning, his mouth quivering in doubt. Did he love Oowada? He did, didn't he? He had yearned for Oowada for ten years... right?

 _Always been like this. Really hadn't changed. Just like back then._ Everything was in the past tense. Ishimaru looked at Oowada properly for the first time that night. Suddenly, he saw an image of the biker gang leader that Oowada was ten years ago replace the shoujo manga editor. The image of the Oowada Mondo with the bleached pompadour and gang leader clothes overrode the Oowada Mondo with the short black hair and casual pyjamas. That's when he knew. That's when his resolve strengthened, and he was sure of the next words he was going to say.

"I was truly in love with you ten years ago, Oowada," revealed Ishimaru, "But that's the problem. I love the you of the past, not the you of the now. We're both stuck in the past, we're both in love with the people we were a decade ago, not the people we are now. We're not the same people we were in high school. You're not a fiery gang leader anymore, and I'm not a disciplinary committee member anymore. I love the person you used to be, not the person you have become. And you love Ishida, not Ishimaru."

Oowada took a few moments to soak in this revelation. As if to say he understood, he let go of Ishimaru. Deliberately slowly and reluctantly, as if the very actions pained him.

"We can't repeat the past," Ishimaru continued, "We have to stop this toxic illusion right now. There's no way we fell back in love with each other only after a month of finding each other again. We need to move on, we can't keep going like this. I'm stuck in the past, and that's why I cannot say I love you. And you should not say you love me either."

"But Ishimaru... does it even matter if we're just 'stuck in the past'? Doesn't loving Ishida also mean I love you? Ishida and Ishimaru are the same person, afterall, just... with two different last names."

Ishimaru shook his head, a sad smile plastered on his face. "No, Oowada, I'm not the same person as Ishida. Ishida was happy-go-lucky, innocent, naïve, and pure. In your eyes, I was easy to fluster and get a reaction out of, yet adorable and affectionate."

"Ya still are..."

"No. Ishimaru is not. The current me... I'm jaded, unforgiving, broody, and cantankerous. That day when you, no, when I thought you cheated on me, all delusions of happy endings and fairytale romances were shattered. I learned the truth about love, that it can break and never be restored, that my methods of trying my best and working hard aren't always sufficient. I am a broken man, Oowada. I am so emotionally broken. And once something is broken, it can never be truly fixed. And that is why I cannot be Ishida. That is why you cannot love me."

The editor-in-chief grimaced, clenching and unclenching his fists. Ishimaru knew Oowada was searching for something, ANYTHING to say that could refute Ishimaru, that could deny any claims that they weren't unconditionally in love with one another. But Ishimaru also knew that Oowada would come up empty-handed, for he was right. A single tear rolled down Oowada's left cheek, and Ishimaru resisted the temptation to tenderly wipe it away, even though the sight of Oowada crying was tormenting. He knew pushing Oowada away was the best option for both of them, while Ishida would have desperately done anything to keep his ex-lover with him. Ishimaru knew that they had to stop this fruitless pursuit for each other's high school selves, before someone got hurt even more than they already had been ten years ago.

"I..." Oowada breathed shakily, "Damnit, why do you have to be so fuckin' smart? Just like... back then..."

 _Just like back then._ Oowada and him, they both spoke in past tense. They both referred to the past, where the love of their lives resided. But there was no point in trying to rekindle their relationship in the present. Their relationship ended ten years ago. Their feelings for each other should have ended then and there, but they were somehow carried in the broken hearts of broken men until they met and clashed with each other so much later. They had to let go of the past before they got carried away.

Oowada eyed Ishimaru one last time, probably trying to see Ishida beneath all the layers of hurt and misery that came with Ishimaru. Then, he trudged out of Ishimaru's house, and the sound of the door closing shut indicated that Ishimaru was alone.

Ishimaru heaved back a sob and sunk down onto the floor. He held his knees to his chest, pressing them to his lips, the very lips that Oowada had kissed, thinking that he loved Ishimaru. But there was no way Oowada had come to love Ishimaru in just a month, no, he was merely harboring his ten year old love for Ishida.

But when Ishimaru thought of Fujisaki, how the sales representative had declared his love for Oowada, and how he had claimed to be Oowada's anchor in times of need, Ishimaru was once again filled with doubt. If he only loved the Mondo from the past, why was it that he felt threatened and territorial? Why was it that he loathed the idea of Oowada being stolen away by Fujisaki? No, perhaps Oowada was already Fujisaki's, but his obsession for Ishida was overpowering.

He slipped off his shoes and marched down the hallway. He glanced at his calendar. July. A month away from his 26th birthday. He was already so old, and yet his life was a mess. He couldn't get his thoughts and beliefs straight and Oowada... he just couldn't figure out what he wanted and where Oowada fit in his life. Perhaps he really did love the current Oowada, his boss?

 **Enough.** Ishimaru had enough. He stormed to his office, dug out his high school yearbook, and chucked it into the trash bin with all his might.

Then, he unmistakably felt it resonating within his soul. A pang of regret.

Did he love Oowada of the present, afterall?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Oowada decides to celebrate Ishimaru's 26th birthday.  
> \----------  
> Next chapter will probably be released quite a bit later because I'm vacationing to Europe from July 14 to August 21! Sorry! D:


	4. August 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oowada remembers Ishimaru's birth date and takes the latter out for his 26th birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'M SORRY I MISSED KIYOTAKA'S BIRTHDAY AHHH and ignore the fact that august 31 didn't fall on a Saturday this year.)  
> I'm so sorry for the over-2-month-long wait omfg. I also apologize in advance for any mistakes in this chapter. It's so long that I couldn't bother to proof-read XD

_A cool and refreshing breeze shifted through the nearby trees. The August air was crisp, reminding Ishida that Autumn was near. Soon, colours like red, orange, and yellow would blossom on the leaves on the deciduous trees. Some would turn brown, and with time, all the leaves would fall from their branches and dance their way to the ground. Soon, the sound of leaves crunching and crackling underneath his feet would be the norm as he walked to and from school everyday._

_A distant call interrupted his wistful thoughts about Autumn._

_"Kiyo!"_

_He turned his head to see Mondo, his boyfriend, jogging towards him while waving fanatically. Ishida noticed that the biker gang leader had on a backpack, which was peculiar, because he never had a backpack on their dates, but Ishida thought nothing of it._

_"Hello, Mondo-kun," said Ishida as Mondo reached the disciplinarian._

_"Hey, shit, 'M not late, am I?"_

_"Language!" Ishida smiled. "No, you are as punctual as always." Mondo breathed a sigh of relief._

_"Thank God. Well, let's go, aiight?"_

_To make the most of their last day of summer holidays before school started, the couple had decided on spending time together at the Back-To-School matsuri festival. They spent their day playing games such as goldfish scooping and eating various typical festival foods such as yakisoba and sweets (Mondo heavily indulged in the latter, especially cotton candy.)_

_Many hours later, when the sky had gotten dark, Mondo and Ishida seated themselves on a grassy hill behind the festival area, waiting for the fireworks. It was at that moment Mondo shrugged off his backpack, reached in, and pulled out a small cake box._

_"Er, Mondo, what is this?" asked Ishida._

_"It's a cake, dumbass."_

_"I can see that, thank you very much. I am just confused as to why-"_

_"Happy Birthday, Kiyotaka."_

_Ishida blinked at his boyfriend, then looked down at the cake, then back up at Mondo._

_"...Oh, right, it's my birthday today."_

_"...Hah? How the fuck do you forget your own birthday?"_

_"Well..." Ishida muttered, "Our friends at Hope's Peak cannot contact me as I do not have a phone and I am not permitted to use the computer unless for school-related purposes, so they do not have the means to wish me a happy birthday on the actual anniversary of my birth. Plus... my parents are the only ones who bother to celebrate it. Ah, please forget that last part, I-"_

_Ishida was cut off by being pulled into Mondo's warm embrace. The biker gang leader wrapped his arms around the smaller male protectively._

_"I... I know I can't replace yer parents, but... if it helps, I bother to celebrate your birthday." Mondo started sputtering, flustered, "Wait, SHIT, I didn't mean that remembering your birthday was a bother! F-FUCK! The cake is all smushed 'cause I left it in the box FUCKSHITMOTHERFUCKER! Uh, FUCK, um, oh! Damn, I forgot to bring utensils for the cake, I'll... I'LL RUN AND GO GET SOME!"_

_Mondo abruptly moved his arms in an effort to stand up, but before he could get up, Ishida wrapped his arms around Mondo's neck and pressed his lips against his boyfriend's. He felt Mondo tense up in surprise, then the feeling of Mondo's arms holding him around the waist again._

_When Ishida pulled away from the kiss, Mondo stammered, "B-But... I thought you didn't like doing this kinda shit in p-p-public?"_

_Ishida slowly become aware of the stares from the people in their vicinity. He flushed deeply, then replied, "Y-Yes... but... that was the only means of keeping you from departing that came to my mind at the moment... if you did not like the kiss then I apologize..."_

_"NO!" Mondo tightened his arms around Ishida. "No, I... fuck, y'know I love doin' this shit with ya, I just... I just got nervous again...!"_

_"I think you're adorable when you're nervous."_

_"S-STOP THAT!"_

_"Sorry, I had to," Ishida giggled, "Well, anyway, thank you for taking the time and effort to celebrate my birthday. Nobody else does, so... Thank you, Mondo."_

_He ducked under Mondo's pompadour and rested his forehead against his boyfriend's. Mondo hummed in content, then joined their mouths together to share a few more kisses. Only the sound of the first firework being launched into the air caused them to break away from each other. The two watched in awe as the stream of light soared higher and higher through the night sky until it exploded into a shower of colour in the shape of Mondo's head. The firework Mondo in the sky opened its mouth and screamed._

_"Hey, Ishimaru! Wake the fuck up!"_

_...Wait,_ what?

Ishimaru's eyes snapped open, waked from his slumber by the sound of his boss screaming at his face. He blinked groggily, then looked blearily at his surroundings. He was lying down in a pile of books in the office. Oowada was looming over him, his short black hair failing to cover his deep under-eye bags. All around him, his fellow editors seemed to be physically deteriorating, shaking while working on their overdue manuscripts.

"Shit!" Ishimaru shouted, scrambling to stand up. "I'm so sorry! I fell asleep at the most crucial part of the cycle!"

He remembered with a jolt that today was the extended deadline for all the manuscripts that month. The boss had already requested two extensions, and couldn't receive any more, and so today was the last day they had to get everything submitted and finished. Because of that, they had spent three consecutive all-nighters working in the office, not being able to afford any more delays. And he had fainted! How pathetic of him; how inexcusable!

"I-I-It's fine..." Hinata shakily replied, "But c-could you finish up your manuscript and then call the printer?"

"Y-Yes! Of course! I'm so sorry!" He swiped a few screentones from the shelf (which was what he had intended to do before he fainted) and shuffled to his workstation.

For the next hour, Ishimaru weakly slaved away at his first manuscript from his first mangaka, Pekoyama-sensei. He pasted some tones that the assistants had forgot to do and cleaned up the typesetting. When he was done, he called the printer, enduring a lecture about Diamond department's tardiness and the importance of punctuality in the shoujo manga publishing business. Eventually, a man from the printers finally appeared to collect the manuscripts and to publish them. When the man left with all the manuscripts, all the editors of Diamond deflated at their workstations in relief.

"Ah... it's finally finished... the last part of the cycle..." whispered Hinata.

"Ugh..." Tanaka mumbled, "I haven't seen the Four Dark Devas of Destruction in three days..."

As usual, Sonia was smiling, but her strained voice revealed that she was as tired as all of them. "If I am not mistaken... this cycle felt even longer than the other ones... why is that...?"

"Because Ishimaru," Oowada grumbled, "Took so FUCKING long on his manuscript!"

Flushing from humiliation, Ishimaru yelped, "I-I'm sorry!" He knew he was significantly slower than the other editors because this was his first manuscript. Even if it was his first time, his working speed was unacceptable! He had failed to contact Pekoyama-sensei regularly about the upcoming deadlines, he had stumbled on what corrections to give both the storyboard and the manuscript, and to top it all off, his final touching was sluggish and slowed the whole magazine down! Inexcusable! He was a worthless editor who dragged the whole Diamond department with his slow and inferior work. No matter how hard he worked, he'd always be too stupid or too-

"Hey, boss," Hinata said, "Don't be too hard on the newbie..."

"Hah? Why th' fuck not?"

Sonia added, "Well, it is true that he struggled a bit, but is that not because this was his first ever manuscript?"

"Everybody was like this in the beginning, even you, boss," drawled Tanaka.

Ishimaru looked around at his fellow co-workers, touched. They were standing up for him! They were such nice people who understood his struggles!

Oowada grunted. "Well... I s'pose... good work, newbie..."

"But well, if you work at this speed on all your other manuscripts," Hinata deadpanned, "You're dead weight to Diamond."

Everybody, even people from neighboring departments, froze in shock at Hinata's bold and rude statement. Sonia cleared her throat and laughed nervously.

"Please do not joke about dead weight! A-Anyway, now that we are done here, we should take our leave now!" She picked up her bags and slowly made her way to the exit. Tanaka and Hinata got the message and scrambled to follow her lead soon after.

"Is I-Ishimaru h-here?"

Fujisaki Chihiro walked into Diamond department, with a piece of paper in his hand. He glanced at Oowada dreamily momentarily, then snapped his attention back to Ishimaru. He waved a document in front of Ishimaru.

"D-Do you recognize what this is?"

Ishimaru squinted at the paper, reading the title. "Proposal for New Book Publication...? No, I don't think I do..."

"Really?" Fujisaki scoffed. "I thought you'd know since you edited literature at your last company."

"This guy was the editor for Togami Byakuya," Oowada interjected, "I think he only edited for popular novelists at Onodera Publishing."

For just a second, Fujisaki looked awed. "W-Well... that just says you didn't do your job properly b-because you were cocky about your b-big shot authors-"

"Fujisaki," Oowada said, "Be professional. You were talking about the proposal."

Ishimaru guffawed at the boss. When did the former biker gang leader learn to speak such proper and formal language?

"...R-Right. A-Anyway," Fujisaki added, "A Proposal for New Book Publication is a d-document written by the editor stating why their book should sell. It's th-then circulated at a meeting in order to secure permission to publish a new book."

"Oh, I see, a document requesting the publication of a new book!" exclaimed Ishimaru as he took the document, "Thank you, I will work on this as soon as I get home. You are very competent in your job, Fujisaki."

Fujisaki flushed. "Thanks. D-Don't think you can sweet talk me and t-trick me, I know the t-true jerk you are inside." The salesman turned on his heel and stomped out of the office. Ishimaru stared down at the proposal, then at Fujisaki. Throughout the month of August, he had gotten used to Fujisaki's occasional jeers in the workplace, but it still stung quite a bit. He trudged to his desk to pick up his belongings when Oowada leaned over Ishimaru's shoulder.

"So, newbie," he grinned, "You looked like ya had a real nice dream while you were passed th' fuck out. Care to share?"

Ishimaru froze in place as he remembered that he had been dreaming of Oowada Mondo. But of course, he hadn't dreamed about the shoujo manga editor-in-chief of the present, he had dreamed of the gang member of ten years ago. That is what they had established a month ago, that both he and Oowada were stuck in the past and harboring feelings for the people they used to be, not the people they became. But it didn't change the fact that the subject of Ishimaru's dream was Oowada Mondo. He had relived one of Ishida's high school memories, a date at the matsuri festival with his then-boyfriend, Oowada Mondo. He had dreamed of dating Mondo, embracing Mondo, kissing Mondo-

"I-I-I wasn't dreaming of anything!" Ishimaru bellowed, "Nothing! Nothing at all!"  _Nothing, definitely not of you, boss!_

"Uh-huh. Smells like bullshit."

In a sense, the dream had been a sort of wake-up call. Just the fact that Ishimaru had happily dreamed of his former lover and his first relationship proved to him that the love of his life resided ten years in the past, not in the now. Lately, he had been doubting whether or not he merely loved the Mondo from the past, mainly because of Fujisaki. He had claimed that there was no point in rekindling a broken relationship from high school, but was that really the case? Had he really fallen in love with the current Oowada Mondo in just two months? He glanced up at the boss to see that Oowada was already intensely gazing at him, and they made heated eye contact.

Ishimaru could feel a blush creeping up his cheeks, so he quickly looked away and resorted to changing the subject. "B-Boss..." Ishimaru said, "You are invading my personal space! Watch your proximity!"

In response, Oowada leaned down even more, even closer. "Heh. 'M not doin' anything. I'm not close at all."

Ishimaru lowered the volume of his voice and hissed, "I can  _feel_ your breaths on my neck, so if you'd just  _please_ move back and stop leaning over my shoulder-!"

"Why'd ya circle the 31st on yer calendar?"

"Eh?" Ishimaru looked at the calendar on his desk to see that he had indeed circled the 31st. "Oh, that's just my birthday. No big deal."

"Yer birthday's August 31...?" Oowada mumbled, "Oh, right, I remember now. It's in three days..."

Ishimaru gathered all his belongings. "Y-Yes, well, goodbye now, boss!"

Oowada called out, "Let's go on a date." Ishimaru spun around, a blush evident on his face. "What's th' problem? It's on a Saturday so we don't have work. Keep the 31st free, we're go for a ride for your birthday. I'll meet you outside our houses at eleven in th' mornin'."

"W-W-What?! Don't just decide these things for yourself-"

"Well that settles it. Lookin' forward to it, Ishimaru." Oowada ruffled Ishimaru's hair, winked, then strolled out of Diamond with a skip to his step.

Ishimaru sunk into his chair, bringing a shaking hand to his hair. Oowada had ruffled his hair and called him "Ishimaru" instead of "newbie." For some reason, those seemingly insignificant actions made him breathless. Oowada still made his heart pound and his blood rush to his head- no.  **No.**  Oowada did not  _still_ do that, he was merely harboring ten year old feelings for the second leader of the Crazy Diamonds. Fruitlessly chasing after someone who didn't exist anymore, someone who only resided in the past, would just hurt himself. He had to stop this poisonous illusion at once. He had already affirmed that he wasn't in love with the Oowada Mondo of the present; his boss. He was just... hung up on his first love from ten years ago.

At home, he dug out the proposal Fujisaki had given him and attacked it with all his might. He resolved to finish it that night, if only to distract him from his spinning head.  _Concentrate. Work through the proposal. Do not think about Oowada Mondo. You do not love him. Concentrate..._

* * *

_After the fireworks show, the matsuri festival finally came to a close. Mondo offered to walk Ishida home, which the disciplinary committee member instantly agreed to. As he walked alongside his boyfriend, he glanced back longingly at the festival, now fading into the distance._

_"It's a shame that festivals have to end," Ishida said._

_"It sure is," Mondo agreed, "I was havin' a lot of fun, too, damnit."_

_"I think I had even more fun because I was with you, Mondo-kun!"_

_Mondo smiled and laced his fingers in between Ishida's. "Yeah, me too, babe."_

_The couple walked hand-in-hand in silence, with only the sound of Ishida's wooden sandals clacking against the concrete sidewalk keeping them company. After a minute of constant clacking, Mondo glanced down at Ishida's feet._

_"Doesn't it hurt to walk in getas?" asked Mondo._

_Ishida replied, "A little bit, I **am** walking on wood, afterall."_

_"I can carry you, if ya want."_

_"N-N-No thank you, I am completely fine! Besides, I would not want my yukata to be wrinkled as a result of a piggyback ride! Ha ha ha!"_

_"True. Oh, right, speakin' of yukatas, I forgot t' mention but... ya look great."_

_Ishida looked down at his pale midnight blue yukata and his getas. "Th-thank you, Mondo-kun! You look ravishing as well!"_

_Mondo darted his eyes at his Crazy Diamonds attire, then back at Ishida. "N-Nah... ya dun hafta lie t' me like that. I didn't deck out in fancy festival shit like you did..."_

_"You don't have to. You always look good no matter what."_

_The biker gang leader blushed and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, an action Ishida recognized as something Mondo did when he was nervous or flustered. He knew a lot of things about Mondo, now that they had been dating for almost a year. He smiled up at his boyfriend, feeling so in love._

_"Mondo?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"I love you."_

_Mondo smiled sheepishly, held out his arms, and picked up Ishida, hoisting the yukata-clad boy in his embrace._

_I love you too,_  riiiiiiiing!"

 _Wait,_ what?

Ishimaru sprung awake to the sound of his cellphone ringing. Wait, when had he fallen asleep? He vaguely recalled passing out after sloppily completing the new book proposal. Understandable, since he had still been exhausted from pulling three all-nighters in a row. His phone rang a second time, then a third time. He snatched it, groggily fingered the green button, and answered the call. 

"Yes, Ishimaru Kiyotaka, how may I help you?"

A female voice responded, "Kiyotaka, honey, happy birthday!"

Bewildered, he checked his caller ID.  _Mother._ He brought the phone back to his ear, knowing it was rude to leave her hanging.

"Thank you, mother," he said, "I was surprised to see that you called, but it was a pleasant surprise, I assure you."

"Oh, Kiyotaka, you know I would never forget your birthday. Well, I have to go, it was nice speaking with you. Love you."

"Yes... farewell. Have a great day." He hung up, then fell back onto his bed with a disappointed sigh. His mother had only spewed bullshit during that brief call. He knew she didn't actually care for or remember his birthday, afterall, she was two days early. Well, Ishimaru supposed she did better than his father, who had sent a text on July 31st, exactly a month before his actual birthday. So close, yet so far.

His parents always did this; always pretended to care about him, even though they only talked to him once a year for his birthday, on wildly inaccurate dates, to boot. They pretended to care for and love him even though they ignored him and cast him to the side every other day of the year. Even if it had been like this since he graduated university, Ishimaru couldn't help feel a bit saddened everytime he remembered his broken relationship with his family.

He arrived at Diamond department and handed his completed proposal to the boss. Oowada looked at the document for about five seconds, then tossed it back to Ishimaru.

"No way in hell," stated Oowada.

"Oh, how wonderful," Sonia stated in the background, "Ishi got some constructive criticism!"

Ishimaru gawked at the head editor. "You looked at it for about five seconds. Please read through it properly."

"I did," Oowada said, "And I got the impression that you dun give a shit 'bout this."

"W-Wha?! Of course I do! This book, if granted permission to publish, would be the first ever comic I edited myself. Plus, Pekoyama-sensei's manga is really popular and deserves to sell!"

"Bullshit. You say all that crap about it being popular, and yet ya haven't added any evidence to back that claim up. No mention of how you're gonna advertise the shit, either. I can't fuckin' tell why this book should sell just by lookin' at this shitty proposal."

"Nn! W-Well..." Ishimaru murmured, "As I informed Fujisaki yesterday, this is my first time completing a new book publication proposal."

The boss glared at the editor. "So you're makin' excuses on why you did a shit job, huh?"

"W-What?! No! I would never! I'm passionate about my work as an editor, and I do not tolerate half-assed work!"

"Then fuckin' prove it, bitch. You can't present this at the meeting. Do it over until it's not shitty." Oowada practically threw the proposal at Ishimaru, then leaned forward and whispered into the editor's ear. "If the proposal isn't better by tomorrow, I won't let you go on our date on Saturday."

"...What?"

"Oooo, what was that all about?" Hinata teased, "Whispering into each other's ears?"

Ishimaru's face turned bright red at this remark, and Sonia came to his defence. "Hinata, you are embarrassing Ishi!"

"I ship it," stated Tanaka.

"Tanaka!"

"Whaaat? The All-Knowing Eye says the two mortals are destined for eternity together. Also, they're cute."

To avoid the comments from his co-workers, Ishimaru fervently worked on perfecting the Proposal for New Book Publication. He had to finish it by tomorrow, or else he wouldn't be able to go out-

Wait... what? Had he just confirmed that he wanted to go on the birthday date with his boss? That he wanted to go for a drive with Oowada Mondo?

No. Nononononono. Absolutely not. There was definitely no way. He simply detested being behind in his work and being reprimanded for doing a "shitty" job. Yes. He totally did not want to go on a date with Oowada, no sirree. He was just a hard worker who could not settle for anything less than his best efforts and the best results. Not somebody who was still hung up on their past lover from ten years ago. He was just under the delusion that he'd get to go out with the Oowada of the past.

Hours later, since the first few days of the cycle were slow and easy, everybody else in the Diamond department went home. Ishimaru stayed behind, still befuddled by the unfinished proposal.

Oowada walked into the department sipping a coffee, making Ishimaru slightly jolt in shock. Was it just him, or did he and Oowada just conveniently  _happen_ to be alone in the office together too often?

"You're still here?" he asked.

"Yeah, just had a meeting, I'm leaving after this, though." The boss peeked over at Ishimaru. "You're still working on this shit?" 

"Y-Yes. Don't mind me. Please head on home."

"Lemme see."

"I'm perfectly capable of completing this myself, without your help."

"No, seriously, lemme see." Oowada fell back into Hinata's chair and rolled up to Ishimaru's desk. The head editor sat right beside Ishimaru, so close that their shoulders were touching. The latter squirmed in his seat, trying to deny the way Oowada's presence itself managed to tangle up his thoughts.

"B-Boss," Ishimaru sputtered, "I told you, I will finish this myself!"

"Stop bullshittin' me, you're not getting anywhere." Oowada scooted even closer, so that their whole arms were pressed against each other, and Ishimaru almost failed to keep a strangled whimper from escaping his throat. It was clear that Oowada had not heeded his warnings of mixing up the past and the present..

"Don't come so close to me, boss, this is an invasion of privacy..."

The head editor ignored the protests, eyeing the proposal instead. "Do you have the results for Pekoyama-sensei's popularity poll?"

"Huh? Uh, yes?"

"You need poll results to back up how popular her manga is. See, look at the results. Pekoyama-sensei's constantly been somewhere in the top ten, even if it was under the editorship of Kuzuryuu Fuyuhiko, not you."

"O-Oh, I see!"

"How many copies of their manga have the authors before and after her in the polls sold? If you compare her to them, how big can you estimate the sales will be?"

"Eh?"

Oowada continued. "Who will buy her manga? Think about the demographic and audience this manga attracts. You also need to think about ideas for the ad campaign."

"S-Slow down, please!" Ishimaru commanded, "I must take notes of all this!"

"There are other things to consider too. Like the design component of the manga. What image will be on the cover? What will you put on the obi? And-"

"Thank you very much, Oowada-san! I think I have all the information necessary to complete my new book publication proposal now."

Oowada blinked at him. "You called me Oowada-san."

"...Oh. I did."

"Hah?"

Ishimaru shrugged. "I suppose... it was just on the spur of the moment. Normally you are screaming and swearing at me in the office, so it was a nice change for you to kindly give me all these pointers professionally. So... thank you again." He smiled at the head editor, then started to search for the necessary documents to perfect his proposal, such as sales polls, demographics surveys, and previous volumes of Pekoyama-sensei's manga,  _Moonlight Sonata._

When Oowada finally moved, he shivered at how cold it felt without Oowada's arm pressed against his, at the absence of Oowada's body warmth. But he quickly recovered from his stupor and worked with renewed vigor and determination on his proposal. Now that the boss had taught him every bit of knowledge he was missing, he would be able to go out w-- finish his work! _Finish his work!_

He managed to finalize the proposal two hours later, much before the deadline the editor-in-chief had set for him. He beamed down at his first Proposal for New Book Publication, proud of his work and success. But as he took the train home, he questioned if he had had ulterior motives as he had worked on the proposal. Had he really finished his work so quickly because he was that much of a hard and prideful worker, or did he really feel threatened by Oowada telling him he couldn't go out with him if he didn't finish by tomorrow? 

When he showed the completed proposal to the boss the next day, it was immediately approved for circulation at the next meeting. Ishimaru was satisfied, but strangely, he didn't feel that ecstatic. Of course, he was happy for Pekoyama-sensei and glad he hadn't failed her, but there were no strong feelings beyond that of relief that Pekoyama-sensei's popular and fun manga series would continue on. He had finished his work with such speed and vigor because he wanted to go out on his birthday with Oowada Mondo? Why does he want to go so badly? Did he want to be alone with Mondo that much? Most importantly, who did he want to go out with? The Mondo of the past or the Oowada in his life at the moment?

He clocked out of the office early that day, afraid that he would mix up his professional life with his invasive personal problems. Needing to cool down, he passed the time by getting a haircut, cleaning the house, and organizing the laundry. By the time he finished all his chores, it was night time. He set his alarm for 9 a.m., then dozed off, hoping that he wouldn't have another bittersweet dream of his high school sweetheart.

* * *

When the alarm blared throughout the house, Ishimaru was relieved to remember that he had not dreamed about his birthday date with  _Mondo_ nine years ago. Rather, he had dreamed that he was trapped in Hope's Peak Academy by a talking animatronic bear. Huh. Weird.

He opened the calendar app on his phone and stared at the date. August 31st. It was his 26th birthday today, and he had a date with his ex-boyfriend. Ugh.

Ishimaru loathed giving Oowada the impression that he was excited to go on a date with him, so he scoured his recently organized clothes for the little amount of casual clothing he owned. It took him a while under all the formal/business clothes and ten sets of two uniforms, but he finally found a loose denim shirt to wear over a white t-shirt, skinny khaki slacks, and a pair of Converse shoes. Satisfied with his laidback outfit, he got ready for the day by eating breakfast, washing up, and finished his preparations by 10:45 a.m. Stuffing his wallet, phone, and keys into his pockets, he exited his house and waited outside the door.

Ten minutes passed, then twenty, then thirty, but Oowada still did not come out as he promised he would. It was 11:15 a.m., fifteen minutes after the appointed time, and Ishimaru felt sorely disappointed.

"W-Wha?! W-W-Why am I disappointed?!" he thought aloud. Why  _was_ he disappointed? Sure, he hated when others were not punctual for their scheduled appointments, especially if he was one of the participants, but he felt that the actual reason was much deeper and personal than that. A few more minutes went by, and Ishimaru reluctantly decided that Oowada had been messing with him. He was a no-show. And Ishimaru couldn't help feeling... sad... as he dug out his key from his pocket.

Suddenly, something tugged at his shoulder with such force that he spun around against his own will and nearly lost his balance. He lurched forward and ended up falling straight into Oowada. The head editor stared down in bewilderment, then brought his arms around Ishimaru and trapped him in his embrace.

"So you  _were_ lookin' forward to today," Oowada said as he tightened his embrace, "You really were eager to go on a date with me."

Ishimaru squirmed, trying to get out of Oowada's hold. "N-No! That is certainly not the case! It would just be rude to-"

The head editor let go of Ishimaru and eyed the latter from head to toe. Ishimaru barely fought back a smug grin. Oowada would surely be disappointed that he had taken so little effort to dress up for the "date." His boss' spirits and high horse would surely be lowered after seeing him look so casual and laidback.

Instead, Oowada said, "Shit, you look really good."

"W-W-What?!" This was  _not_ the reaction Ishimaru had been hoping for. "No, I don't! I'm in casual clothes! That gives off the impression that I didn't care about this date, doesn't it?"

"Well, I wasn't really thinkin' of that," Oowada admitted, "It's just, you're always wearing dress shirts and dress shoes and fancy business clothing type shit. I'm always seeing you look a bit formal, so, you look really good right now in casual clothes, like,  _really_ especially good. N-N-NOT THAT YOU DON'T LOOK GOOD IN DRESS CLOTHES, just, seeing people that normally wear formal shit wear casual shit is hotter than usual, y'know?"

Ishimaru felt the blood rising to his cheeks at this array of compliments. He had dressed like this with the intent of turning Oowada off, but it had the opposite effect and he was instead complimented for how attractive he was all the time?

"Anyway," Oowada cut in, "Sorry I'm so fuckin' late. It took  _forever_ to find a second helmet."

"H...Helmet?"

The head editor took out his garage opener from his pocket and pressed a button. The garage door opened to reveal a sleek motorcycle in front of the sports car.

"W-Wait, no... it couldn't be..." Ishimaru said shakily. 

"Yep. We're going for a bike ride. C'mon." Oowada wheeled the bike to the driveway as Ishimaru shuddered in terror, eyes fixated on the menacing vehicle of death.

"N-N-No!!!" Ishimaru shrilled, "When you said we'd go on a ride for my birthday, I thought you meant a drive in the sports car!"

"Nope, fuckin' dumbass, I thought you knew me better!"

"M-Motorcycles are death traps on wheels and very dangerous, I-I-I'd rather not-"

"Calm th' fuck down, we're both wearing helmets." Oowada strolled into his garage and tossed a white and silver helmet to Ishimaru. 

"Wait." Ishimaru commented, "You?  _You're_ wearing a helmet? Are you serious?"

Oowada scoffed. "It's not like I want to, but if I don't, you'll just bitch about it."

"B-Bitch?!"

"Oh, yeah, I remember back then when you..." Oowada stopped talking, and his facial expression twisted into one of frustration. Ishimaru knew it was because he was realizing that he only ever talked about the good old days, about Ishida. Oowada continued. "You used to bitch about me riding my bike without a helmet  _all the damn time._ Back then, I was the leader of a fucking biker gang, so I couldn't exactly wear a helmet. Plus, helmets don't come in 'pompadour size'. I'm not a gang leader anymore, and my hair actually fits in a helmet, so I'll wear a shitty helmet today, just for you, Ishimaru."

Ishimaru glanced up at Oowada's medium-length black hair. He mentally agreed that now there was no excuse for Oowada to not wear a helmet. He slipped on his helmet as Oowada came back with a black and gold helmet of his own.

"F-F-Fine, I'll go on a ride, since you have taken the necessary safety precautions."

Oowada smiled, put on his helmet, and mounted the bike. And that's when Ishimaru realized there was yet another problem. 

He was going to have to sit right behind his ex-lover, be pressed up against his ex-lover, and put his arms around his-

"What the fuck are ya waitin' for?" Oowada interjected, "Just get on, already!"

Ishimaru slowly eased onto the back of the bike, and put his arms straight by his side. He reached down and clutched the tail end of the bike so hard that his knuckles whitened. Oowada glanced back at the passenger and raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Don't think holding onto there'll be  **safe** ,  _Mr. Ex-Hall Monitor._ 'M gonna be revvin' 'er up and goin' real fast." He started the engine with two quick flicks of his wrist as if to prove his point.

"I think this will suffice just fiiIIIIIIIAAAAHHHHH!!!" Oowada had started the bike without warning, and Ishimaru quickly brought his arms around the male in front of him. "EEYYYAAAAHHHHH!!!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, WILL YA? SHIT." Oowada screamed back, "Stop being a little bitch!"

They exited the townhouse complex at record speed and drove through the city streets, the engine roaring so loud the sounds echoed through the Tokyo air and covered the sound of Ishimaru's horrified screaming. 

"PleaseslowdownpleaseslowdownpleaseslowdownfuckfuckFUCK OH GOD!!!!" shrieked Ishimaru. He squeezed his eyes shut as the world sped by him at exhilarating speeds. His emotional scale reached an eight because of his fear and adrenaline, and so he pressed the front of his helmet against Oowada's back and started crying. His tears streamed down his face and pooled in the bottom of his helmet. He squeezed Oowada's body with his quivering arms as the ex-biker sighed and slowed down for his passenger's sake. When they were traveling at a speed that was acceptable to Ishimaru, which surprisingly wasn't old-lady-with-a-walker speed, he calmed down considerably but still kept his hold on Oowada. He dared to look to the side and gasped. While Ishimaru had been freaking out, they had driven out of Tokyo and were presently driving through the countryside. Tree after tree passed them, causing Ishimaru to wonder just where Oowada was taking him.

They rode in serenity, with Oowada driving safely and Ishimaru relaxed enough to enjoy the ride. Of course, he enjoyed it not because he was with his boss, or because he was technically hugging his boss from behind, he simply liked long drives. The wind rushed past him, rustling through his thin clothes. He shivered from the cold and pressed closer against Oowada's back for warmth. And Ishimaru allowed himself to enjoy this moment, to breathe in the musky scent of Oowada, to immerse himself in this moment where the two of them were pressed against each other in the tight confines of a motorcycle seat. He allowed himself because this was not a moment that they were merely reliving to rekindle the past. Ishida had never ridden on Mondo's bike; this moment was not a recreation of their relationship just like everything else concerning Oowada Mondo was. Riding a motorcycle together was not an event that had occurred ten years ago, and for that reason, Ishimaru allowed himself to feel instead of denying all his feelings and emotions and keeping them bottled away.

After what seemed like a few hours later, the motorcycle came to a stop. Ishimaru reluctantly brought his arms back to his side and hopped off the motorcycle. Oowada also dismounted and started wheeling the bike somewhere, motioning for Ishimaru to follow with a turn of his head. Ishimaru looked all around him and saw nothing but various greenery like trees, grass, weeds, and the like. Nevertheless, he kept following Oowada until they reached a clearance where he could see the cyan sky and a slither of sunlight slipping through the gap in the leaves. Oowada's backside and bike kept his view obscured until they exited the green thicket, and Ishimaru could only gasp at the sight.

Without him knowing it, Oowada had driven the two of them to a cliff. Beyond a short fence designed to keep tourists back from the edge, there was a lake which seemingly shimmered and gleamed from the sun rays, mountains beyond the lake, and a neverending array of scenic pieces of nature all around. When Ishimaru strained his ears, he could swear he heard the distance sound of a waterfall. He approached the fence then leaned over it, eyes widening as they tried to process all the natural beauty he saw. He saw the reflections of the mountains and clouds off of the water, he realized how gorgeously cyan the sky was, and gawked at how effortlessly this place was so scenic, so... beautiful.

"Um, Ishimaru?" Oowada cut in, "You'd probably be able to see better if you took th' helmet off."

The effect that the enchanting spell the beauty of the view had cast on him wore off when Ishimaru realized he was still wearing his helmet. He tugged it off of his head, and water poured out from the helmet's opening.

"The hell?" Oowada said, "Why was there liquid in yer helmet?"

"Er. I cried on the motorcycle," mumbled Ishimaru. He heard a snort, and looked over to see Oowada shaking with laughter. 

"D-D-Don't laugh at me!"

"S-Sorry, oh _man,_ I should've known you'd cry. Sorry, give the helmet here." Oowada outstretched a hand, and Ishimaru handed the helmet to him. The former trudged to put the helmet on the motorcycle. He walked back until he was next to Ishimaru and leaned against the railway.

"This is such a nice view, don't you think, Oowada?" Ishimaru beamed. "Thank you for bringing me here!"

Oowada flushed, then replied, "Yeah, it sure is. I think it used to be a tourist attraction, but now it's a deserted one."

"It's beautiful. But... how did you discover this place? It is so hidden and obscure!"

"Well, uh..." For some reason, Oowada fidgeted, as if he was uncomfortable.

"...Oowada? Is something the matter?"

"...I found this place after you dumped me. Eight years ago."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I was deranged and depressed, so I recklessly sped out of the city on my bike. I just drove and drove, tryin' to deal with... well... the breakup. I stopped around here and blindly ran in the thickets and found myself here."

Ishimaru listened with intensity, but he found himself regretting ever opening his mouth. The breakup was an awkward topic to talk about, not just because it was from the past. He tried to imagine what it must have been like for Oowada when he had been dumped by his first true love seemingly out of nowhere. He wondered what it would have been like if Oowada had dumped him instead, and how hurt he would have been abruptly being kicked out of his love's life. He suddenly envisioned a younger Oowada blindly speeding through the night on his bike with tears obscuring his vision in an attempt to distract himself from his aching heart and shattered dreams. Ishimaru felt a pang of pain in his chest. Poor Mondo, Poor, poor Mondo.

Oowada continued. "When I first saw this view, I wanted to see it with you."

Ishimaru's heart skipped a beat as he looked over with wide eyes and a reddened face. "...Well, your wish just came true."

Oowada smiled sadly. "Yeah."

Ishimaru again tried to envision the Oowada Mondo eight years ago crashing into the side of the thicket due to his blurry vision and broken heart. He could see Mondo running through the woods choking on his tears and letting loud cries of agony and heartbreak escape his mouth. He saw Oowada dashing out of the clearance and momentarily forgetting about the unfairness of the world and how much he missed and needed Ishida as he stared in awe at the view in front of him. Ishimaru subconsciously brought a hand to his heart, feeling for the surely depressed Mondo whose tears had surely streamed freely down his face for a long time after Ishida had left him.

The two cleared their throats awkwardly, then stared ahead at the scenery. They stood at a loss, not knowing how to face each other. Ishimaru's eyes darted from mountain to mountain, from tree to tree, trying not to think of how sad he was that Oowada had been so depressed because of his misunderstanding, and how he actually wanted to see this view with Ishida, not him.

"O-O-Oh, shit, right..." Oowada stuttered nervously, "H-Happy... Birthday..."

It took a second for Ishimaru to register that somebody had wished him a happy birthday; that somebody had actually remembered his true birth date. And strangely, despite how nervous and panicked he sounded, Oowada's birthday wish sounded much more sincere than his mother's two days ago. 

Oowada blinked. "Your... mother...?"

Ishimaru blinked back. "...What?"

"You just said... something about my birthday wish sounding more... sincere than hers, or some shit..."

"...Damn! I said that out loud?!"

"So uh, you gonna explain to me or nah?"

Ishimaru nodded. "Well, since I said it, even if by accident, I suppose I am obligated to continue. My mother called me to say Happy Birthday two days ago."

"Well, she got the date wrong," murmured Oowada, "But isn't that a good thing? She still cares-"

"No. She doesn't. Both of my parents, ever since I graduated from university, they pretend to care on my birthday then cast me aside and ignore me for the rest of the year. In actuality, they do not care for me one bit. They are not interested in my life, nor do they want to be a part of it."

"Ah, shit, 'm sorry you hafta go through all of that. I sure know how it feels like t' have deadbeat parents who don't give a flyin' fuck 'bout ya."

Tears threatened to fall from Ishimaru's eyes, and before he turned away, he spotted Oowada reaching up to wipe them away.

"No. Don't," warned Ishimaru, "You have to leave the past behind. You don't love me."

Oowada froze in place, retracting his hand after a reluctant pause.

"Y'know," he spoke, "I've been thinking about that a lot. I mean, about what you said a month ago, about us bein' stick in th' past or some shit."

Ishimaru's ears perked up, and he looked up at Oowada in curiosity. 

The head editor continued. "I know I've always been on the dumber side, ain't got no smarts like ya, afterall, but I seriously thought hard about it. That's why I didn't  _do_ anythin' t'ya all this time, 'cause I saw th' wisdom in yer words an' I respected that you didn't want any romantic advances or whatever."

Ishimaru stared at the slightly waved locks of black hair covering Oowada's right ear until he realized Oowada had paused. He cleared his throat and spoke. "I... thank you, boss, that was very thoughtful of you." 

"I-It wasn't a big deal or anythin'. Anyway, what I wanted to say was that I think you were wrong."

"...What?" No. That wasn't possible. There was no way he was wrong.

"I mean it, Ishimaru." Oowada finally turned away from the scenery to properly face the shorter male. "You said just now that yer parents don't give a fuckin' damn about you and that they don't want anything to do with yer life. But I do. Wait, shit, NO, I... I d-didn't mean that I DON'T CARE, OR ANYTHING, GOD DAMMIT. I always do this! Sh-shit... W-Well... I...! I CARE ABOUT YOU! And... DAMNIT! I WANT TO BE A PART OF YER LIFE!"

Ishimaru stared at Oowada's flustered and reddened face, stunned. Then, he glanced down at the ground and shook his head.

"Do you know what I just thought of, right now, Oowada?"

Oowada shook his head in negation.

"I thought about how you still shout when you get nervous after all these years," Ishimaru responded, "Don't you see? We simply cannot work out. You don't want to be a part of my life, at least, not anymore. That is what you wanted all those years ago. We broke up eight years ago. Please stop this before you hurt yourself."

"No, Ishimaru, you're the one who's not thinkin' straight," Oowada countered, "Just because I retain some of th' traits I had as a kid ain't mean you're stuck in th' past. There's nothing wrong with the present remindin' ya of th' past, ya hear me, Ishimaru? And I noticed that ya got a haircut. Because of that, you look exactly like how you used to in high school, sure, but that doesn't mean anythin'! I'm not thinking of who you used to be in the past. Even if you look exactly like how you used to when we dated, when I look at you now, I only have feelings for ya. I'm looking at th' you of th' now and I know my feelings fer Ishimaru Kiyotaka are true."

Ishimaru stumbled, flustered, then furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. The things that Oowada had just said... were they true? Being reminded of nearly a decade ago doesn't exactly mean that he's wallowing in past events?

Oowada's piercing lilac eyes. His habit of drawing black eyeliner on his eyes. His way of speech. All of those traits reminded Ishimaru of the past, but Oowada was claiming that that didn't matter; that your head could still be in the present while being reminded of the past. He could see the logic behind that, afterall, it's not like Oowada Mondo completely flipped personalities and transformed into a totally new person just because of time, nor did he stay the same exact person.

Even though he reminded Oowada of the past, Oowada claimed only to see him as he was. But then again, Ishimaru didn't know what to believe. He wasn't exactly familiar with the aspects of the human mind and their connection to romance. He had always been oblivious to that sense.

He kept convincing himself that he couldn't dwell in the past but a tiny part of him protested that he was very much living in the present.

"Earth to Ishimaru? What I'm tryin' to say is, sometimes it's not a matter of harboring decade-old feelings. Sometimes old habits just die hard. It's okay fer some things to trigger memories."

"...If this were just a matter of habits and memories, there wouldn't be a problem at all!" Ishimaru shouted, "Do you take me for a fool, boss? Do you really think I'm so guarded against you because you are a lot like how you used to be? Because of haunting personality traits? BULLSHIT! I'm saying all this crap because I'm broken."

"Ishimaru... You're not-"

"Yes, I am. I told you this before and I will not repeat it again, so listen up. You were my first love, and I loved you with all my heart. First loves are always so pure; I was optimistic and thought that we would last forever and ever. But then... the cheating scandal happened, and all of my hopes were completely shattered. Reality hit me like a gust of wind, and it told me that relationships can break. I tried so very hard to erase your very existence from my memories. But because I'm so broken, and because our breakup was so sudden and painful, somehow I'm still clinging on to my first love. Somehow I'm still in love with the Super High School Level Biker Gang Leader."

"I know that it's only been a l'il bit since we 'reunited', but I think you're actually in love with me, th-the present me, I mean."

Ishimaru looked away, because Oowada had just voiced one of his biggest concerns, one of his biggest doubts. That he truly loved Oowada.

Realizing the conversation was not going anywhere, Oowada added, "Well, there's gotta be  _something_ you like about me that past me didn't have, right?"

Ishimaru pondered, looking back at the man beside him to analyze him. "I quite like your hair," he finally decided, "Though you were dashing before, the pompadour was a bit ridiculous. Your current hairstyle is nice."

Oowada looked away and flushed, bringing his hand up to comb his fingers through his black hair. The front tips of hair fell just below his eyebrows, while the back was long, about mid-neck length. 

"Yeah, didn't see a reason t' keep havin' that hard as shit t' style 12-inch hair when I quit th' gang... Well, let's go back."

"Huh?"

"We're going back," Oowada said, "Something tells me you're not enjoying this date very much, and it's partly my fault fer bringin' love up again. Let's go."

Oowada strolled over to the bike and wheeled it down the thickets. Ishimaru followed suit, until they were on the road again.

They rode in silence, with Ishimaru keeping a softer and more reluctant hold around Oowada's body. The former kept his distance from the latter's body until they finally reached their townhouse complex. They both dismounted as Oowada entered his garage, but before the head editor closed the garage door, he turned to Ishimaru and spoke.

"I'm sorry for ruining yer birthday, Ishimaru."

As Oowada waved goodbye and closed the garage door, the gears in Ishimaru's head slowed. He stood outside dumbfounded, paralyzed and unable to go back to his house. He was rooted to the spot in a motionless stupor. His heart pumped wildly and his eyes stared sightlessly, fixated on no particular spot, because he couldn't bring himself to enter his house. The date with Oowada had felt too short. It ended too abruptly and... if he wasn't mistaken... he wanted more.

The sound of a door swinging open brought Ishimaru back to reality, and he spun around to see Oowada poking his head out of his door.

"Yo, Ishimaru!" the head editor hollered, "I forgot! I need my fuckin' helmet back!"

Ishimaru realized with a jolt that he had once again forgotten to take off the white and silver motorcycle helmet upon dismounting Oowada's motorcycle. He slowly pulled it off his head, ignoring the droplets of cold sweat that fell from the front strands of his hair, and walked slowly over to the entrance of his boss' house.

"...Ishimaru?" Oowada said, eyeing the shorter male, "Are you okay...?"

Before he could stop himself, Ishimaru brought his arms up to Oowada's chest and bundled the latter's raglan shirt in his hands. He felt Oowada stiffen beneath his touch and inhale sharply, but he paid no mind.

Ishimaru whispered, "You... You didn't ruin my birthday."

Both of their eyes widened, and they moved to stare at each other. As lilac clashed with red, they felt an undeniable shock of electricity course through their bodies, followed by a wave of heat as years of desire consumed them. Ishimaru saw Oowada's pupils dilating and darkening with want. He shuddered and exhaled shakily, quickly letting go of Oowada's shirt and started to slowly back away. 

"I..." he squeaked, "I have to go..." 

Ishimaru turned to leave, but a tug at his arm forced him to tumble backwards into Oowada's house. The head editor swung the door shut behind Ishimaru, shoved the shorter male towards the door, and slammed his left arm onto the door by Ishimaru's head, effectively cutting off any means of escapes.

The sound of soft pattering caused both of the men to look at the small and white Maltese puppy excitedly running down the stairs. The puppy stopped in its tracks upon seeing Ishimaru, and cautiously approached the stranger to sniff him.

"Hey Charlie," Oowada said, "Uh, this is Ishimaru."

Charlie's ears perked up at the sound of the stranger's name, but otherwise, she gave no indication that she had acknowledged the stranger. She was too hyper, hopping around Oowada's legs, begging for his attention. Oowada chortled softly at the dog and bent down to pet her. With Oowada's focus no longer on him and no arms to block his way anymore, Ishimaru made an attempt to open the door and leave. But Oowada saw his hand shakily moving towards the door knob and slammed his arm onto the door again.

"No," Oowada breathed. He brought his other arm up and pinned Ishimaru's shoulder to the door and leaned in until his lips brushed against Ishimaru's as he hazily whispered, "Stay."

Ishimaru barely had time to be shocked as Oowada closed the remaining distance between them and joined their lips together. As they shared chaste kisses, their muscles moved with precise memory as to where they should go. Oowada slid his hands down Ishimaru's chest until they settled at his hip. Ishimaru's arms twitched, and he tried to protest.  _No. I can't do this to Oowada. I don't love him. I'll just be hurting him if I indulge in this pleasure... that the past me has been craving._ But his body moved on its own, and before he could stop himself, he found himself slinging his arms around the head editor's neck, lacing his fingers through the head editor's hair, and tugging the black locks lightly.

Oowada tilted his head back and groaned against Ishimaru's mouth and separated from his lips to bury his face into the hollow of Ishimaru's throat and breathed heavily onto the shorter male's neck. Oowada let go of Ishimaru's hips to wrap his arms around the latter's waist. He tentatively explored all of the rippling muscles on Ishimaru's back and felt Ishimaru's body beneath his uncertain yet greedy touch. And the more he felt Ishimaru, the shallower and more ragged Oowada's breaths against the former's neck became.

Ishimaru shivered at the sensation of Oowada's hot and hitched breaths against his neck and worried his bottom lip between his teeth. At the sound of a soft whimper of delight coming from Ishimaru's mouth, Oowada's head snapped up from the base of Ishimaru's neck. The head editor took one look at Ishimaru's lips, ravaged red where he bit them, and pressed them against his own chapped lips.

Ishimaru gasped as Oowada nibbled on his bottom lip, repeatedly suckling then biting and pulling roughly. He mewled in pleasure, and Oowada responded by lifting Ishimaru up. The former disciplinarian cried out and sputtered in surprise and found himself being carried by Oowada by his thighs.

"P-P-Put me down this inst-! Mmmmffh... Oh......" Ishimaru's objections were cut off by a swift kiss, and he again wrapped his arms around the head editor's neck. Oowada made his way up to the second floor with Ishimaru in tow, staggering and tripping on stairs and Charlie often since he was occupied with kissing the man in his arms. He nudged his bedroom door open with his shoulder, then kicked it close before Charlie could enter. As the two men heard the dog whimpering and scratching against the door, Oowada found his bed, where he dropped Ishimaru onto it and crawled on top of him.

"Oh, Kiyotaka..." He embraced Ishimaru from above and smothered him with a passionate kiss. At the sound of his given name, Ishimaru's arms automatically wrapped around Oowada's back and pulled him close. Then, he felt Oowada's tongue on his top lip.

Dazed and filled with lust, he opened his eyes slightly and saw the question in Oowada's eyes. _Do I have your consent to keep going?_

Ishimaru didn't know if he loved the current Oowada Mondo or not. It had been too short of a time to develop a crush on someone, let alone his ex-boyfriend from high school. He didn't know the current Oowada enough to know if he was in love with him. Ishimaru's feelings were distorted and tangled, but there was one thing he knew for sure.

He wanted Oowada badly. And so he parted his mouth to grant the head editor's tongue entry.

Oowada immediately slipped his tongue into Ishimaru's mouth and initiated a wet kiss. Their tongues clumsily slid against each other and intertwined. Soon, Oowada was running his tongue along every inch of Ishimaru's mouth, exploring it. Oowada propped himself up on two hands and as he kissed Ishimaru deeply, he grinded his body against Ishimaru's.

Ishimaru gasped sharply as Oowada swiftly grinded his cock into Ishimaru's. Oowada snaked his arms out from under Ishimaru's head and pinned Ishimaru's arms onto the bed as he continued dry humping him. Ishimaru gazed into Oowada's hooded eyes and he griped and whined as Oowada thrusted faster, eliciting friction between their growing erections. Oowada let go of one of Ishimaru's hands to cup Ishimaru's length through the fabric of his pants, earning a melodic moan from Ishimaru as he arched his back in pleasure. His body moved on its own, flinching and rubbing against Oowada's hand as he was fondled. The feeling of grinding his body against Oowada and the experience of Oowada fondling his cock was pure ecstasy to Ishimaru. Just as leaned up to kiss Oowada, just as he could feel himself close to climax, the moment was ruined.

_"♪Shot through the heart! And you're to blame♪!"_

The two men abruptly stopped what they were doing in bewilderment and whipped around to glare at Oowada's cellphone, which had just started ringing.

_"♪You give lo~ove a bad name!♪"_

From below, Ishimaru saw Oowada's face twitching in annoyance. The head editor bared his teeth and snarled, furious at whoever had called for ruining the moment.

_"♪I play my part and you play your game!♪"_

Oowada sighed and sat up on his knees, still above Ishimaru. Before Bon Jovi could sing the next line of the song, Oowada pulled out his cellphone from his back pocket and angrily pressed it to his ear.

"Chi. Why're ya callin'."

Ishimaru stared up at Oowada from where he was lying on the bed, still pinned under Oowada. _Chi?_ That could only mean...

The cellphone must have been on speaker phone mode, for Ishimaru heard the reply loud and clear.

_"M-Mon-chan, c-calm down! Is something the matter?"_

The former disciplinarian swallowed in apprehension. Just as he suspected, the cockblocking caller was Fujisaki Chihiro.

"Nothing, shit, just answer th' fucking question."

_"You're definitely upset! I'm s-sorry! But... well... I was wondering if I could hang out?"_

"Can't, sorry. I have a guest."

_"Huh? Really? Who?"_

Oowada didn't answer and just glanced down at Ishimaru.

_"...No... it couldn't be... Ishimaru?"_

Oowada swallowed.

_"Ugh, g-get a grip, Mon-chan! He's obviously j-just stringing you along! He's weaseling into y-your life to play with you and break you again!"_

"Fujisaki, I apologize for butting in, but," Ishimaru interjected, "It is not nice to speak rudely about others behind their backs."

 _"Y-You! G...Get out of there."_ Fujisaki's voice shook with rage.  _"You're taking advantage of Mon-chan's longing for Ishida, so stop it right now. You don't love him like I do, so stop playing with his torn heart! He doesn't love you, do you understand?!"_

Fujisaki's accusations pierced him like a knife. He remembered how, up until Fujisaki had called, he was indulging in Oowada's heartfelt displays of affection to him merely because Ishimaru wanted Oowada, not for love. Furthermore, he still hadn't figured out what Fujisaki's and Oowada's past and present relationships were exactly. What business did he have "hooking up" with another man's property? Perhaps Fujisaki was right, and he was solely taking advantage of Oowada without knowing it.

Oowada countered, "Actually, I  _do_ love him. It took me a little while t' figure it out, 'cause 'M dumb as shit, but I know my feelings. I don't want Ishida. I want Ishimaru Kiyotaka, I want him fer who he is now, not for who he was." 

Ishimaru flushed, then faltered at the sound of heavy breathing on the other end of the line. 

_"...L-Listen up, Ishimaru. Mon-chan and I dated."_

Ishimaru's head pounded painfully as if a hammer had smashed into his skull. He stared up at Oowada in horror. So it was true that they had dated.

_"W-When you ran off and abandoned your so-called lover, Mon-chan came to me! I was there for him like you never were, I helped him recover from the heart YOU broke, and we-!"_

Oowada swung his arm and launched the phone at the wall. It hit the wall with a satisfying shattering sound, and fell to the bedroom floor in pieces.

"O-O-Oowada! What on earth was that for?!" exclaimed Ishimaru.

"Don't listen to him, Kiyotaka," Oowada panted, ignoring the fact that Ishimaru froze up at the casual call of his given name, "Yes, he remained my friend up until now and helped me, but-"

"It does not bother me," Ishimaru asserted, "What Fujisaki did in the past does not affect me."

"Really? Considerin' that you get all pissy 'bout the past when it's about our relationship back in high school, I thought the past did you bad in general."

Ishimaru squinted, trying to comprehend what Oowada had been trying to tell him all day. That it was okay to be reminded of the past once in a while. That remembering the past did not mean one was stuck in the past - that one could not enjoy the present. That the past shouldn't affect him.

Contrary to what he had believed so firmly before, maybe Ishimaru was the only one who was worried about the past. Maybe he had no need to worry about the past.

"Well," Oowada said, "It's gettin' kinda late, I gotta feed Charlie. 'Ve been ignorin' her for enough now."

He rolled off the bed and offered a hand to Ishimaru. The latter accepted it and clasped it, momentarily feeling the spark that resulted in bare skin-on-skin contact. Oowada hoisted Ishimaru off the bed and pulled him into his arms.

"H-Hey!" Ishimaru protested, squirming in Oowada's embrace. The head editor merely smirked and planted a kiss on the top of Ishimaru's head before letting go.

Ishimaru glared up at the boss indignantly, rubbing his head. But what irked him more than the dirty trick itself was the fact that it had felt so natural. Oowada had done this many times to Ishida in high school, but Ishimaru wasn't thinking of any of the past memories. He was living in the present. He was living this moment without comparing it to the past at all. And it confused Ishimaru, because only a month ago he was convinced that he and Oowada would not work out, for they were broken men harboring broken decade-old loves for different people.

He followed Oowada out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Ishimaru looked around the house to find the same sights. Garbage littering the floor, dirty and unfolded clothes spread out everywhere; to put it simply, the whole house was messy. 

"I'm so fuckin' sorry, Charlie! I was a bit... occupied." Oowada winked at Ishimaru, then resumed filling Charlie's food bowl with dog food. He strolled over to the refrigerator, and when he opened it, Ishimaru noticed that there were only a pre-sliced peach, a carton of orange juice, packets of energy jello, and an array of cans of alcohol. Oowada took out the peach and plopped it onto Charlie's bowl. The Maltese immediately devoured the fruit with ferocity.

Ishimaru thought about the hilarious absurdity of his current situation. He was watching his tyrannical shoujo manga boss peacefully feeding his tiny and fluffy puppy in his house, right after making out and dry-humping with him. But there were more important concerns on his mind.

"Boss! Your house is unacceptably filthy!"

"Huh? Fuck off, man, it's just th' way I like it!"

"Nonsense, Oowada! Your litter and laundry is scattered everywhere and your refrigerator is in dire need of actual food! Please take care of yourself more!"

"Ugh, whatever." The head editor rolled his eyes. "If I can't take care of myself, would you come care for me?"

Ishimaru blushed. Did Oowada not get embarrassed saying such humiliating things?

"I... I will be taking my leave now! Good night!"

"Aiight. Night."

As he scampered down the stairs, Ishimaru questioned himself. He knew that he shouldn't be doing such scandalous actions with Oowada. Especially since Oowada was his superior at work, their relationship should strictly be a professional relationship between co-workers. Not to mention they were ex-lovers from a decade ago, who should have left their feelings for each other in the past. But no matter how many objections there were to the two of them, Ishimaru found himself always doubting when it came to Oowada Mondo. Ishimaru always found himself questioning his true desires and wondering if he truly wanted more. 

Ishimaru was so busy questioning his right to pursue a relationship with his ex-boyfriend and boss that he walked right out of the door without noticing that Oowada had fainted and crashed to the floor. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Oowada gets sick, and it's up to Ishimaru, the next door neighbor, to save the day and take care of his boss.  
> \-----  
> LONG CHAPTERS. NEVER AGAIN. HOLY SHIT. 11K WORDS. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.


	5. In Your Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oowada gets a fever so high he skips work. Being his neighbor, Ishimaru goes to check up on and care for his boss, where they have a clarifying conversation about what Oowada's relationship with Fujisaki is, and what Oowada is to Ishimaru.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pacing in this fic is terrible holy hell.  
> Again, terribly sorry for the long waits in this fic... I guess by now you're all used to it :( I really don't have any other excuse other than I'm in my last year of high school... sorry, I'll try to up my writing speed! I really like this story and where this fic is going so I'm going to continue on until I get to the end!  
> P.S. You might want to read the previous chapter again before this one, just to refresh your minds after so long.  
> 

"So, Pekoyama-sensei, before I express my opinions, how do you think 'Moonlight Sonata' should progress at this point?"

It was a sunny Monday morning, and Ishimaru was seated across from Pekoyama Peko, the mangaka assigned to be under his editorship, in a Starbucks coffee shop. They were taking time to discuss about work, such as story development and ideas for future projects and supplementary work. Currently, they were debating on new directions for her ongoing manga, Moonlight Sonata: a story about M-00N, a genetically engineered experiment posing as a human girl named Tsukiyo Nashiro by day. When exposed to moonlight, she transformed into a magical girl swordsman who fought and defeated genetically engineered creatures sent to kill her by her creator, Matsuragi Kurona. The manga revolved around Nashiro struggling to balance her day and night lives. During the day, she was Tsukiyo Nashiro, a normal high school student with a normal human crush on her classmate, Kikuchi Yuzuru. By moonlight, she was M-00N, the last survivor of the outdated production line called Mecha. Kurona wanted every last Mecha dead, because they had too much human consciousness to be completely brainless and obedient servants to her, and so nearly every night, Nashiro battled for her life against the monsters Kurona sent to destroy her. While the manga evidently had sci-fi and shounen elements, Moonlight Sonata had ultimately been classified as shoujo because it mainly focused on Nashiro's internal conflicts of whether she was truly human, whether she was capable of loving Yuzuru, and whether she could truly fit in and be accepted one day.

"Yes, I've been thinking," Pekoyama said, "That Nashiro should finally either tell Yuzuru about her true identity or have Kurona unleash a surprise villain during the daytime so that the whole school finds out that she is a magical girl."

Ishimaru questioned, "But wouldn't having everyone know about M-00N basically be the end of Moonlight Sonata?"

"That is the point," Pekoyama replied, "This is going to be the beginning of Moonlight Sonata's ending."

"...EH!?" Ishimaru was genuinely surprised. Moonlight Sonata was going to end soon?

"Yes. This manga has been running for nearly three years. I cannot drag it out for the sake of making more money by making M-00N fight more monthly monsters or minor bosses, that'd be milking the story after it went dry. I figure it is time to draw the climax of the story and end the battle between Nashiro and Kurona once and for all. And after Nashiro's true identity as M-00N and her true status as non-human are revealed, the darker, more intense, and more psychological part of the story will begin to unfold."

"Ah, yes, that makes sense." It was rare for mangakas to have as much wisdom as Pekoyama, and Ishimaru was immensely grateful not only for that, but for her patience and willingness to cooperate with him. She was also a successful mangaka, especially since Moonlight Sonata was targeted to many audiences and had a wide demographic.

"Do you have any suggestions?" Pekoyama inquired.

"...Perhaps we should give the fans what they want," Ishimaru said slyly, "Nashiro and Yuzuru are alone in a classroom or something, even though they should be studying. Nashiro decides she's going to confess her feelings for Yuzuru, after an internal conflict about not being humans and not being capable of loving or feeling emotions."

Pekoyama pressed her lips together in a hard line. "A confession scene? That's obviously not..."

"I wasn't finished. It starts out as a confession scene. But just as Nashiro stops stumbling over her words and says 'I lo-', something destroys part of the school."

"S-Something? You don't mean...?"

"Yes, I mean a monster. So we give the fans the fluffy and heart-fluttering confession scene they want, but just before the protagonists have the chance to validate their feelings for each other, that climax is snatched away from the readers by a monster attacking M-00N during the day."

The silver-haired mangaka grinned in understanding. "I see. We give them the suspense of what looks like a traditional and sweet high school love confession scene, but we brutally shatter their hopes. That's killing two birds with one stone, since the whole school will also be alerted of Nashiro's alias, or what they think to be an alias, as a genetically engineered magical girl."

"Exactly! Perhaps this monster should be unlike anything M-00N has ever encountered before, just to exaggerate how much of an unexpected and rare occurrence is. The monster is attacking M-00N in broad daylight instead of at night, plus it is a monster M-00N has never seen before. This is a silly idea, but maybe to heighten the tension even more, Kurona should be there as well."

"That is an interesting idea, but I do not think Kurona would reveal herself to the public so stupidly. She would probably remain concealed until the final battle."

"Hm... we'll talk about that more, but for now, we must discuss how Nashiro would be able to transform and fight in the daytime."

"Ah, that is a concern, indeed. It is a known fact that Nashiro can only transform if she is basked in moonlight. So how would she battle against the monster during the day?"

Ishimaru and Pekoyama discussed Moonlight Sonata further, and after that, they talked about the announcement of a Moonlight Sonata anime and ideas for upcoming supplementary material and one-shot shorts in future themed magazines, such as Halloween and Christmas special issues. Afterwards, they parted ways, and Ishimaru went to Marukawa to do some work before clocking out for the day.

When he entered Diamond department, the first thing he noticed was that Oowada was absent from the editor-in-chief's desk.

"Excuse me, Tanaka?" Ishimaru asked, "Is Boss at a meeting?"

"No, red-eyed one, the boss is sick at home."

"What?!"

"Indeed, it is quite unexpected that the Supreme Overlord has fallen like a wounded harpy!"

"Relaying that in normal language..." Hinata chided, "it's super weird for the boss to be sick. I mean, that guy showed up to work even when he had a fever of thirty nine degrees!"

Ishimaru's jaw fell slack with shock. "Th-thirty nine?! Then... he must be ill!"

"Well, no shit, sherlock."

Sonia added, "Furthermore, I believe there was supposed to be a meeting with Marukawa's president today... for Oowada to skip such an important conference, his fever must be very severe. Perhaps he is even bedridden!"

If Oowada really was ill, he would be all alone in his house. Ishimaru suspected that Oowada's parents hadn't reappeared in the years he and Oowada had been apart, so Oowada didn't have anybody to check up on him and take him to a doctor unless... unless he had a friend.

The word 'friend' brought a bitter taste to the tip of Ishimaru's tongue. He clenched his jaws as his brain conjured images of Fujisaki tending to a bedridden Oowada-

A bedridden Oowada?

Ishimaru tried to picture Oowada in his bed, his body laden with fatigue and spasms of pain contorting his tanned face. The imagery was nearly impossible to conjure in his head, for the former gang leader had never gotten sick during high school. The rough and tough leader of Crazy Diamonds simply didn't get sick!

But Oowada wasn't a biker anymore. Now, he was an aging shoujo manga editor-in-chief, who, despite all disbelief, could potentially catch colds.

The moment Ishimaru realized he was thinking about the past again, a swirling discomfort settled in his stomach. But what unsettled him even more was the fact that it didn't bother him to think of the past anymore.

_There's nothing wrong with the present remindin' ya of th' past. Sometimes, it's not a matter of harboring decade-old feelings. Sometimes old habits just die hard. It's okay fer some things to trigger memories._

Perhaps the melodious words that Oowada had relayed to him on ~~their date~~ his birthday were messing with him. Perhaps the lyrical poetry of reassurance was messing with him. Or perhaps he simply was not hung up over the past anymore, like he thought he was.

_I know my feelings. I don't want Ishida. I want Ishimaru Kiyotaka, I want him for who he is now, not for who he was._

_I love you._

"Ishimaru?" Tanaka waved a bandaged hand in front of his face. "Has your conscience drifted to the Underworld? Hello?"

"A-Ah, Tanaka, what is it?"

"I do not know if the boss has already told you, but in the case of his absence, all documents that would have normally been checked by him would go to me, the second-in-command of this regiment of Hell. The deadline for our new book publication proposals are due today, as you are aware, but the boss is not here. In this situation, they'd be checked by me, the Supreme Overlord of Ice."

"Oh, I'll give mine to you then."

Tanaka scanned the proposal and handed it back to Ishimaru. "Your offering of sacrifice, though it is not the blood of a virgin, is sufficient. Now, could you take all our proposals to the Sales Department, inferior red-eyed one? They must approve the proposals before we can work on our manga."

"Of course, I'll be off straightaway!" He collected all the documents from his co-workers and traveled down to the Sales Department on the third floor. 

The Sales Department had a vastly different atmosphere surrounding it compared to the Shoujo Manga department. It was sharp, pristine, monotonous, and highly organized as one would expect. The offices consisted of white and beige colour schemes and lacked decorations, unlike the pink Diamond department filled with stuffed toys and figurines. The Sales Department was a level of professionalism that Ishimaru longed to be surrounded by again, just as he had when he had been editing literature, but he pushed the longing to the back of his mind. He scanned the department for Fujisaki Chihiro, the primary salesman in charge of Diamond's magazine, but he failed to spot the short golden blond anywhere. He decided to approach a random salesman instead.

Ishimaru inquired, "Um, excuse me? Is Fujisaki Chihiro here?"

"No, he called in sick today," the man stated, "If you'd like, I could take those documents for you instead."

"Ah, that would be great, thank you." He handed the proposals to the salesman and made his way back to the fourth floor. Both Oowada and Fujisaki were absent on the same day? Ishimaru shooed away the spiteful feelings that arose at the thought. Surely, Fujisaki just happened to catch a cold the same day boss did. But knowing the zealous salesman, it wasn't unlikely that he was using Oowada's sickness to make advances on him.

* * *

Ishimaru stared stupidly at the bag of pharmacy goodies on his lap. 

Throughout the day, Ishimaru had caught himself glancing at the editor-in-chief's empty seat numerous times. He knew that he shouldn't concern himself with his boss so much and that Oowada was probably just fine, but he still caught himself worrying. Oowada hadn't even called him to let him know, even though they were next door neighbors! As a result, he worried to the point where he purchased medicine as soon as he clocked out of work. Now, he was on the train home, and he was almost at his station, and he had a bag of medicine he clearly didn't need.

 _You're worried for Oowada, aren't you?_ A voice in his head mocked,  _You bought the medicine for your boss, didn't you?_

Ishimaru wished he could snap back that no, he was merely taking extra precautions, for flu season was right around the corner and he did not want to risk his health. But that didn't explain why he had bought a plastic bag full of medicine that he had plenty of at home, nor did it explain why he had the urge to go to the pharmacy right after hearing about Fujisaki and Oowada's absences. 

Nor did it explain why he was stupidly standing in front of Oowada's front door at the moment.

He clutched the plastic bag to his chest with shaking hands. He didn't understand. His house was literally next door. He was only two steps away from not making the most stupid choice of his life. He looked up at the door, the one, he suddenly remembered, that he's been pulled through and slammed into by his boss only two days ago. His hands would not stop shaking. He found himself wanting to knock on the door, wanting to see Oowada greeting him, wanting to-

He wanted to confirm if Oowada was all right.

But Fujisaki was definitely inside. There was no reason such a hardworking salesman would take a day off for no reason. Fujisaki was sure to be inside and would definitely be the one to answer the door. He would be yelled at again, accused of breaking Oowada again, and be told that Oowada was Fujisaki's again.

He suddenly realized it was quiet. Too quiet. Charlie, Oowada's Maltese, should have detected the presence of a stranger on the other side of Oowada's door by now. Was she ill too? At that moment, he heard footsteps, but they were much too heavy and slow to belong to a dog as small as Charlie. An ominous feeling settled in his stomach and he opted to leave and call Oowada instead, but at that moment, the door was opened by Fujisaki Chihiro.

The salesman didn't notice Ishimaru at first. Fujisaki, wearing a blue tracksuit, walked out of the house, reached into his pocket, and retrieved a key.

...A key?

It was at that moment Fujisaki turned around and saw Ishimaru. The two men could do nothing but stare for a solid minute. The last time the two of them had stood in front of Oowada's door, Fujisaki had screamed at Ishimaru and accused him of stringing Oowada along for the hell of it. Their last encounter had since then created an awkward atmosphere between them, and it only intensified now that the two of them were alone.

"...G-Good work today," said Fujisaki.

Ishimaru squinted at the salesman. He had expected to be bombarded with aggressive insults and claims that Oowada belonged to Fujisaki, not a casual greeting. It caught him off guard, causing him to wonder if this was a trap.

"Good evening." Ishimaru commented, "It is quite strange to see you in casual clothes, Fujisaki."

"I don't wear suits all the time," Fujisaki snapped.

Ishimaru's eyebrow twitched in annoyance, and before his emotional scale could rise to a 5, he suppressed his hurt and irritation. "I know that. What are you doing here?"

"I took the day off to tend to sick and helpless Mon-chan. I'm also taking care of his puppy at my place. I bet you didn't even know that he owns one."

"As a matter of fact, Fujisaki, I do know. Her name is Charlie. She is quite adorable."

"W-Well...! Don't get too full of yourself. Just... J-Just what did you do to help Mon-chan while he was helpless at home? Nothing? I thought so."

Ishimaru flushed. "I was not aware of his physical state until I was told at the office."

"Of course you didn't. You don't care enough about him to find out by yourself."

"I do care. I'm simply not blindly obsessed with him to the point where I neglect my duties at work, as you are and did, Fujisaki!" huffed Ishimaru, "Both your behaviour and choice to skip work today are unacceptable!"

Fujisaki shot him a nasty glare. "W-What are you going to do, write me a detention slip? You have no right to lecture me about what's 'acceptable' anyway, you thief. Y-You can try to say w-whatever you can against me, but it won't matter in the end, because  _I'm_ the right one for him. Mon-chan belongs to me, and there's nothing you can do to change that."

"Why do you keep saying that Oowada is yours?" Ishimaru asked, "Are the two of you dating?"

"Th-that doesn't really concern you."

"That is not an answer!"

"Q-Quiet! You're just trying to cover up the fact that your only motivation for being with Mon-chan is to toy with him again, to hurt him again! I won't let that happen, you hear me, Ishimaru? He's mine! Stay away from him!" In his fury, the salesman stormed away.

Without locking Oowada's door.

Ishimaru pursed his lips into a thin line. A golden opportunity had been opened up to him, but was it wise to take the chance? To go inside? His heart pounded against his chest as forced down all feelings of uneasiness, took the door knob, and pushed the door open.

He was greeted with darkness. Ishimaru blindly fumbled against the wall and found a light switch, flipping it upwards with the flick of his finger. Once light flashed into existence and he could see his surroundings, he climbed the first staircase with heavy steps, caught sight of the kitchen, and grabbed a glass of water for his neighbor. He then climbed the second one, trying to ignore the fact that the last time he had gone up these stairs, he was in Oowada's arms.

Did he love Oowada Mondo? They made out two days ago, and Ishimaru had completely wanted it and been into it. But bodily desire didn't equate love, he knew that. On the other hand, he was in Oowada's house to check up on his boss, wasn't he? Didn't that mean he had even a speck of the pure feelings of love that he had for Oowada ten years ago? One didn't buy medicine and check up on people if they merely wanted affection or sex, afterall, but he didn't know if he was doing it out of love, either. He really needed to sort out his feelings before one of them, or both of them, got hurt. 

Before he knew it, Ishimaru had entered Oowada's bedroom, a room his feet had navigated him to subconsciously. His gaze immediately fell upon the bed. He stared at the man lying in the bed, barely recognizing him as his usually loud and energetic head editor. Oowada was significantly paler than usual, and his face was twisted in pain and covered with beads of sweat just as Ishimaru had envisioned it to be. The bedridden male breathed slowly, every inhale and exhale hitched, as if even breathing was difficult.

Ishimaru wrinkled his nose at the stench of unwashed clothes and old food wafting through the air. He looked down only to see trash and laundry littering the ground. Other than small pathways that Fujisaki must have created to get to and from Oowada, not a single inch of the carpeted bedroom floor could be seen. Suddenly, Oowada stirred, groaned, and his eyes shot open to stare at Ishimaru. 

"...Ishimaru? Th' fuck? What're ya doin' here... how did ya get in...?" His voice was weak and full of tremors.

"Do not concern yourself with that right now, boss," Ishimaru piped, "You are evidently ill and require treatment straightaway."

He set the glass of water on a bedside table and the shopping bag from the pharmacy on the floor and rummaged through it for medicine and painkillers. He gently placed NyQuil and Advil into Oowada's mouth, tipped the glass of water onto his lips, and helped Oowada swallow the pills. He laid the back of his hand against Oowada's forehead.

"Do you have a thermometer?" Ishimaru questioned.

"No," Oowada admitted softly, "But Chi measured my temperature when he came over."

Of course Fujisaki nursed Oowada. Envy coursed through his veins, and Ishimaru found himself wondering what else the salesman did at Oowada's bedside.

"He left a thermometer o'er there." Oowada shakily raised an arm to point to the first drawer of the bedside table. Ishimaru pulled the drawer opened, but upon spotting the thermometer, he could only stare in horror.

"...Boss... When Fujisaki measured your temperature, where did he put the thermometer?"

"Hah? What kinda question is that? Ya tryin' to make fun o' me? In my mouth, obviously, dumbass."

"Oowada, this is a rectal thermometer!"

The editor-in-chief's bloodshot eyes shot open. "WHAT?!" His face turned a sickly shade of green. "Yer tellin' me that Chi fuckin' placed a thermometer meant for sticking up  _someone's ass_ into my mouth?! That motherfucker! I'll kill the son of a bitch!" Suddenly, Oowada seemed to deflate and sink further into his bed and pillows.

"Please calm down, yelling is not good for you when you're sick!" Ishimaru countered, "I am certain that Fujisaki is not that cruel. I believe he genuinely could not tell that the rectal thermometer was indeed a rectal thermometer. He probably mistook it for an oral thermometer."

"Ugh," slurred Oowada. His stomach growled. "...I'm kinda hungry."

"Have you eaten anything?"

"Chi fed me some jello and ice cream..."

Ishimaru shrieked, "That's all you've eaten today? That is unacceptable, you must be famished! I'll make you some rice porridge straightaway!"

He stomped downstairs and made a beeline for the kitchen, stepping over and around everything on the floor on the way. He went through the cabinets, got out a pot, only to realize that there was no food in the house.

"There isn't even rice in the rice cooker... unbelievable..." muttered Ishimaru as he jogged to his house right next door. He brought his rice cooker from his house and set it on Oowada's kitchen counter. 

Within minutes, the rice porridge was ready for consumption. He gingerly spooned some into a bowl and brought it upstairs to the bedroom.

"Here," he said as he placed the bowl on the bedside table. Oowada glanced at it groggily, then turned away.

"Don't have the strength to eat," grumbled Oowada.

"That's preposterous. If you can talk, you can eat."

"Feed me."

Ishimaru furrowed his brows and his face turned bright red. "W-What? That's even more preposterous, I definitely will not."

"Then I won't eat. Simple as that."

"But-!"

"Fuck off."

Ishimaru pointedly glared at the head editor. Oowada smirked, but at that moment, his stomach growled again. Despite this, he resumed ignoring Ishimaru.

_I have one choice. I either let Oowada go hungry... or I... feed him..._

Seething in anger and humiliation, he grasped the spoon, and with a trembling hand, brought it to Oowada's mouth. The editor-in-chief's eyes widened in surprise for only a moment, then he opened his mouth.

The blood in Ishimaru's body rushed to his face as he fed Oowada more and more spoonfuls of porridge, with Oowada slyly looking up into his eyes after every mouthful. It was so corny, so embarrassing, so mortifying! And yet, somewhere in the back of his head, Ishimaru was glad that he was the one feeding Oowada, not Fujisaki.

After what seemed like eternity, the bowl was emptied, and Oowada was full. Ishimaru asked, "Is there anything else you need?"

Oowada blushed, the fact that he had been fed by Ishimaru just occurring to him. His voice quivered. "A t-towel would be nice..."

"Right away." Ishimaru retreated into the bathroom, soaked a towel in cold water, and wrung it. He returned and knelt down by Oowada's bedside, pressed his hand against Oowada's forehead, and began folding the towel. He gently pushed away the damp locks of hair on Oowada's face and placed the towel on Oowada's forehead.

"Well, if that's everything," Ishimaru said, "I'd best be on my way now."

Oowada weakly countered, "Don't leave me, Ishimaru."

Ishimaru's heart skipped a beat at the plead. Oowada was asking Ishimaru not to leave him. He wanted Ishimaru to stay.

"You still haven't answered m' question."

"Eh?" It took a few moments for Ishimaru to snap out of his trance and process the remark. "...What question?"

"How did ya get in t'my place?"

"Ah! Erm... Fujisaki opened the door."

"Oh. K."

Oowada's nonchalant attitude concerning Fujisaki stirred up a string of long-repressed questions within Ishimaru. It was at that moment that Oowada glanced at him looking regretful. Looking into the lilac eyes, it occurred to Ishimaru that Oowada knew the things Ishimaru wanted to say. The words escaped his mouth without a second thought; his inquiries overflowed out of his lips.

"Why does Fujisaki have a key to your house?" asked Ishimaru, his voice quivering as he slowly stood up on his feet.

"Oh... uh-"

"What have you and Fujisaki done the past eight years?" Ishimaru's voice increased in volume and vehement with every question. "Why does he keep claiming that you belong to him? What is he to you? What is your true relationship with him?!"

Oowada winced and slowly raised his arm to clutch his throbbing head. He clenched his jaw to Ishimaru's dismay.

"M-My apologies! I lost control and shouted in the presence of a man recovering from sickness... how foolish of me! I... I'm leaving now!" Flustered, Ishimaru frantically took one step over the masses of clothes, trash, and books encompassing the bed. The moment he did so, Oowada's hand reached out from the blanket and latched onto Ishimaru's arm. 

Ishimaru froze in place, paralyzed by Oowada's touch. "M... May I ask just what you are doing?"

"Th' fuck does it look like I'm doing, moron? C'mere."

"I beg your pard-Uwah!"

Oowada did not pull Ishimaru towards him with much force, but Ishimaru tripped on a pile of manga and flopped onto the edge of the bed. He felt Oowada's arms wrap around his body and tug him fully onto the bed by the waist.

"N-No, wait," Ishimaru reasoned in vain, "I don't want your fever to be transferred to me."

"Quit yer bitchin', asshole," Oowada snapped as he and locked the smaller male into a tight embrace. The head editor wrapped one arm around Ishimaru's waist and the other around his head. A squeak of indignation arose from Ishimaru's throat and he squirmed in an attempt to break free from the position.

"Let me go! This position is embarrassing, and I cannot do this with you anymore!"

Oowada grimaced in confusion. "Huh? Whaddya mean ya can't?"

"I cannot keep hooking up with somebody else's man!"

"Somebody else's... what? What the fuck are ya talkin' about?"

Ishimaru's throat was parched, and the words barely escaped it. "You... you're with Fujisaki, aren't you?"

"...Wha? How th' hell didja get THAT idea, dumbass?"

"Fujisaki is always telling me to stay away from you and that you are his! If he truly is your lover, then it is not my place to steal you away! I cannot cause you to be unfaithful-"

"Fuck, ya got it all wrong, Ishimaru. Fujisaki, no, Chi... was th' one who convinced me to go t' uni."

Ishimaru stiffened in shock at the sudden revelation. Fujisaki... did what for Oowada? It took Ishimaru a moment to realize that Oowada was revealing his relationship with Fujisaki, at long last.

"It was six months after you dumped me and disappeared," Oowada continued, "I was still a miserable piece of shit. I couldn't believe you were gone. I fucking wanted ya back. I couldn't live without ya. I rejected th' carpentry apprenticeship I'd been offered during senior year. I was moping around, I was depressed, I was lifeless. But Chi reached out to me an' wouldn't leave me alone 'til I applied for a job an' uni. So I applied t' this random General Arts course. It distracted me from my troubles, and we... me an' Chi... we became real good friends after that, even better pals than in high school. He was there fer me, cheered me up, and dragged me out from the depths of my depression - made me feel happy and alive again. He... He kinda filled the void in my heart that you had left. So naturally... uh... we... we started dating..."

Ishimaru's chest tightened in pain. Why... why did Fujisaki and Oowada's past romantic relationship bother him so much? His heartbeat throbbed in agitation, and it was at that moment that Ishimaru knew. He knew all along why Fujisaki and Oowada's past relationship bothered him so much, he had just refused to acknowledge the true reason. He was regretful of the breakup. He was envious. But most of all, he tried to deny the possibility, but perhaps he was in love. He had to be, didn't he? His emotions clashed against his rationality, his knowledge that no, he could not be in love with Oowada, but his heart yearned for the ex-biker. His feelings were painfully tempestuous. They always seemed to be, these days. 

"He reached out to me again after I finished uni and got me the job here. After I moved in here, he made me give him a key to the place just in case I spiraled into depression again. That's why he has a key to my house. I... I guess I was happy an' shit with Chi. I was able to somewhat crawl outta my depression, and he got my life back together, but..."

"But...?"

"My relationship with Chi... it wasn't anywhere near what we had, Ishimaru." Oowada said, "It... It felt more like... fuck... uh, Chi felt more like a best friend than a lover. Sure, we kissed an' shit, but I never had the desire to be  _more_ with him. I never wanted to hit home run with him, never wanted to get married, never felt like I needed t' stay with him any longer, never wanted him like I... LIKE I WANTED YOU, FUCK. Sh-Shit... So... yeah, we did date or whatever, but... it didn't feel as real as  _our_ relationship. S-So... after seven months, I broke up with him. I felt terrible for misleading him to think that I loved him and that I wanted more from him like spendin' th' rest of my life with him. To this day, Chi's still disillusioned... he still believes that we're meant to be or some other damned bullshit. I just... I just wanted t' clear that up, ye? Don't listen to Chi when he prattles on about him bein' suited for me or us bein' destined, ain't none of it's real, okay? So, to answer yer question, our true relationship is that we're ex-boyfriends and friends, I guess. And... the other day when Chi called, he said I don't love ya... and... well... I want you to know that's not true."

At the last sentence, Oowada's voice trailed off until it faded entirely. His hold on Ishimaru simultaneously weakened. _Talking so much must have used up all his energy_ , thought Ishimaru.

He finally knew the circumstances of Fujisaki and Oowada's relationship, and surprisingly, Fujisaki had been truthful about some things. The two _had_ been good friends and they had dated in the past. Fujisaki had been there for Oowada when Ishimaru wasn't and eventually helped pull him back together. But they weren't together as a couple anymore. And at that fact, Ishimaru felt immense relief.

As Oowada's breathing slowed and his eyes slowly closed shut, Ishimaru muttered, "I know... I know it's true. I know you love me."

The head editor hummed in content and pulled Ishimaru closer to them until their bodies were pressed together. But this time, Ishimaru didn't struggle.

"This is nice once in a while, dontcha think, Kiyotaka?" Oowada said as he gently pushed Ishimaru's head closer to the crook of his neck.

"I suppose so," whispered Ishimaru, turning his head towards Oowada's neck to hide his reddening face.

"Thanks fer nursing me at my bedside."

Ishimaru blushed. "D-D-Don't mention it. Please. Fujisaki did it first."

"Nah, Chi only fuckin' took my temperature and fed me jello and ice cream. He ain't know shit about taking care o' people."

The two males lay side by side in the same bed, their faces only centimeters apart. Oowada fell silent, his chest rising and dropping softly to its own rhythm, and Ishimaru dared to peek up at Oowada's almost-sleeping face. The ex-biker looked much more youthful and fatigued without his usual eyeliner, Ishimaru noted mentally, and he looked at peace with Ishimaru in his arms. The smaller male hesitantly brought his hands up to place them against the head editor's chest, then curled his fingers around the fabric of Oowada's shirt. The head editor smiled and leaned forward to gently press his lips against Ishimaru's forehead. Ishimaru stiffened at the kiss, but he did not reject it. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Oowada's waist and rested his head in the crook of his neck. He felt Oowada's body warmth surrounding him and lulling him into a deep sleep, and before he knew it, his eyelids had drooped shut.

Ishimaru couldn't deny anything anymore. He loved talking to Oowada. He loved Oowada's affection and wanted him so much. He loved being with Oowada and spending time with him. He loved knowing more about Oowada, all of his memories, quirks, and weaknesses. Just now, he had earnestly cared for Oowada, loved tending to him, and genuinely wished for his health to improve.

Ishimaru Kiyotaka definitely had a crush on Oowada Mondo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I've arranged for you to be engaged to the daughter of the Commissioner-General of the National Police Agency."  
> Next Chapter: Ishimaru becomes engaged to a woman against his own will, and his fiancée turns out to be an old friend.  
> \-----  
> Outtake: The two nerds going to the hospital later and Ishimaru lecturing the hell out of Oowada when the doctor says Oowada's fever was caused by malnutrition (refer back to the contents of Mondo's fridge in Chapter 4).  
> \-----  
> GUYS I JUST OMG  
> Ishimaru taking care of Oowada at his bedside. Ishimaru nursing Oowada and fretting over him. Ishimaru feeding Oowada. Cuddling and holding each other on the bed. I just can't handle this cuteness.


	6. Betrothal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when Ishimaru thinks he and Oowada are doing well, he is forced to be engaged, against his own will, to an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowest update yet, I'm so sorry guys! *long paragraph listing apologies and reasons here which you've all seen 100 times* Things are going to progress a lot from now on, meaning more angst drama for my babies nooo :'( what did they do to deserve me...  
> \-----  
> I decided to name the Commissioner-General "Oda Akira" because Oda is the transliteration of "order" and more importantly the fake surname Onodera uses in Sekaiichi Hatsukoi to stalk his crush (basically a shoutout to the manga this story is based off of). Akira can mean "light." A fitting (if not cliché) name for a high ranking police officer, no?  
> (idek what's up with the characters in this fic. Some are former HPA students, like Oogami, Fujisaki, and Enoshima, like in canon, but some were just... not HPA students at all.)

When Ishida Kiyotaka was five years old, he thought love was hugs and kisses, band-aids on scraped knees, and sharing crayons. He understood love in the form of words and actions, in "I love you"s and holding hands, in "Let's be friends" and playing together. Everything was black and white, love or hate, like or dislike, order or chaos.

When Ishida Kiyotaka was ten years old, he thought love to be a distraction. Love was a hindrance to his hectic schedule and his goals. Social and romantic lives would just lead him astray from his path to redemption, not that anyone would want to be friends or lovers with the grandson of the disgraced Ishimaru Toranosuke. No, he needed to work and study hard to achieve stellar grades and ultimately become the Prime Minister of Japan to restore his tarnished family name; love was unnecessary.

When Ishida Kiyotaka was fifteen years old, he thought love was the best thing in the world. He knew love to be a wonderful feeling, a decision to be with Mondo, conflicts and struggles, and the greatest thing to ever happen in his life. Mondo was the greatest first love he could have ever asked for, and he allowed himself to love, no longer thinking it was a distraction from his goals. Everything was bliss, and he saw the world in brilliant colour.

When Ishimaru Kiyotaka was twenty years old, he thought love to be futile. He believed love to be a disaster, a one-way ticket to heartbreak; love truly was a distraction from his goals. Love was fragile, impossible, and would only fail in the end, all efforts contributed to loving in vain. Love caused pain and agony; it shifted his entire personality, reverted his view of the world back to black and white, and damaged his very soul. Love was toxic. Love was meaningless. Love was hopeless.

When Ishimaru Kiyotaka was twenty-five years old, he didn't know what to think of love and saw the world in swirls of grey.

When Ishimaru Kiyotaka opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was his front door.

He blinked groggily, then slowly pushed himself off of the ground. He sleepily looked around at his surroundings. The front door was directly in front of him, and it was unlocked. Why was it unlocked? He stared down at the floor and tiles gleaming in the light seemed to stare back. The gears in his mind finally clicked after thinking about love, and he realized he was sitting in the middle of his doorway. But why?

Then he panicked.

He remembered why he was in the doorway. The publication cycle had just ended, so he had been on the verge from going three days without bathing, all of which he went without sleeping. He had been so tired that he didn't even remember how he got home, but as soon as he entered his house, he had passed out and fallen asleep on the doorway floor.

"SHIT!" Ishimaru shrieked as he bolted up, "I was supposed to observe a departmental meeting first thing in the morning!"

* * *

Ishimaru sprinted during his entire trip to the second floor's boardroom. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally reached his destination, only to be greeted with Fujisaki fuming at him.

"You're late, Ishimaru!"

Fujisaki glared up at him, and Ishimaru resisted the urge to glare back at the aggravating salesman. Technically, he wasn't late, since he arrived at the conference room mere minutes before the workday started. But most of his superiors, the ones actually participating in the meeting, were already here, and in Fujisaki's eyes, that meant Ishimaru was late.

Ishimaru bowed down. "I sincerely apologize, it won't happen again."

"How s-sincere can your apology be?" Fujisaki scoffed, "Y-You arrived a-after your superiors... y-you don't actually care about the meeting since you're not good enough to participate in it, d-don't you?"

A gruff voice spoke out behind Ishimaru. "Shut yer trap, Fujisaki, don't fuckin' stir up so much shit first thing in th' mornin'."

"O-Oowada?" sputtered Fujisaki. Sure enough, when Ishimaru turned around, Oowada was strolling into the boardroom wearing an anorak jacket with leather sleeves over a Y-shirt, black jeans, and tan Oxfords. 

Ishimaru's heart skipped a beat at the sight of his boss, for this was the most formal Oowada had ever bothered to dress. Ishimaru had a thing for men in formal wear (no, it wasn't a fetish), and seeing his ex-boyfriend in a Y-shirt did not help his turbulent feelings. By now, he had accepted that his feelings for Oowada were more than platonic thus inappropriate for a boss-subordinate relationship, but he still had problems classifying the feeling as love. His feelings for Oowada were much more twisted and conflicting than the love he had experienced ten years ago. Plus, even if what he felt for Oowada  _was_ love, he had problems with that too...

"How come every time I see ya," Oowada scowled, halting Ishimaru's thoughts, "You're always picking on Ishimaru, Fujisaki?"

"S-Sorry..."

"He's not even the last one here. Hell, even I'm not the last one here."

Fujisaki finally looked up from the floor. "Huh? Who e-else has yet to arrive?"

As if on cue, the elevator behind Oowada opened, and out of it walked a man with tanned skin and outrageous dreadlocks.

Ishimaru's eyes widened in shock. He could recognize that face and hair anywhere. "Hagakure?!"

Surely enough, the last member of the departmental meeting was none other than Hagakure Yasuhiro. He had the same narrow amber eyes and ridiculous hair, although he wore small frameless glasses over his eyes and had attempted to tidy his unruly hair by tying it back into a ponytail. The most surprising thing about Hagakure being in Marukawa Shoten was that he was clad in a tailored suit. Upon hearing Ishimaru's outburst, Hagakure stopped in his tracks, mid-yawn. 

"Whoooaaaa, no way," exclaimed Hagakure, "Is that you, Ishida-chi?!"

"It is! Hello, Hagakure!" Ishimaru held out his hand, and Hagakure, all aloof smiles, shook it eagerly.

"Man, I can't believe how unreal this is. First Fujisaki-chi, then Oowada-chi, and now, you!"

At the mention of his name, Oowada raised an eyebrow, then strode up to Hagakure until he was beside Ishimaru. Hagakure's eyes widened, as if remembering something. "Oh, right, Ishida-chi, speaking of Oowada-chi, are you two still toge-"

Oowada and Ishimaru both yelped and leaped forward to cover Hagakure's mouth at the same time. Apparently, someone in the 78th class hadn't gotten the memo. The commotion caused all of the staff members in the hallway to turn towards them. Ishimaru flushed and quickly brought his hands back to his sides, as did Oowada. Meanwhile, Fujisaki was trying to make hand signs and arm gestures to get the message across that they had broken up, but judging by Hagakure's head tilts and yawns, it wasn't getting across to him. Figures.

Somebody coughed beside Ishimaru. He turned to see a red-faced head editor looking down at him, amusement tugging at his features. Ishimaru flushed yet again and quickly turned away. The last thing he needed now was Oowada's gaze burning into him.

A sultry voice Ishimaru had never heard before cut through the silence. "All right, now that everybody is here, let's all enter the boardroom and commence the meeting." A woman with long crimson hair walked past Ishimaru towards the boardroom door, then did a double take. 

"Sorry," she said to Ishimaru, "I don't believe we've ever met?"

Ishimaru stiffened. How rude of him! He hadn't even introduced himself properly to his superiors!

"Allow me," Oowada responded, "This is my colleague, Ishimaru Kiyotaka."

"I think you've got that wrong, Oowada-chi," Hagakure interrupted, "His name is Ishida!"

Oowada shot the oblivious former clairvoyant a glare then instantly regained his composure and continued. "Ishimaru has only recently started working here, so he's here to observe the meeting. Y'know, broaden his experiences."

"Please take care of me!" Ishimaru resounded as he bowed stiffly.

"Nice to meet you, Ishimaru! I'm Otonashi Ryouko, the head of Marukawa's financial department, so I'll be representing how many books we'll be able to print with our budget. Have a good one." 

Departmental meetings were held to determine how many copies of a new book will be printed. Every department sends their head to discuss the matter, hence Oowada, Fujisaki, and Otonashi's presences. Ishimaru presumed that these meetings would be similar to the ones he participated in at Onodera Publishing. 

Everyone took seats around the boardroom, with Hagakure sitting at the head of the table. Ishimaru leaned over and whispered to Oowada, "Why is Hagakure sitting at the head of the table?"

Oowada answered, "Hagakure, unbelievably, is the Senior Managing Director at Marukawa."

Ishimaru's jaw dropped slightly, but before he could express disbelief, Otonashi started the meaning with a drawl.

"All right, now that everybody is here, let's start."

"Hey, sorry," Hagakure interjected, "I didn't bother reading the materials so just start without me."

"Again, Hagakure? What the fuck?"

Ishimaru was taken aback by Otonashi's abrupt F-bomb. She didn't seem like the type to swear, looking so doll-like and speaking so professionally before. Of course, he had no right to judge since he swore now too, due to his complete personality shift, but still.

"Gimme a break, Otonashi-chi, please? My actual job, managing things, is hard enough!"

"We'll start without the managing director," Fujisaki pressed on, "Otonashi, how many books should Fukawa-sensei's new book sell?"

Ishimaru shuddered at the mention of the author's name. Even thinking about his and Oowada's last encounter with her sent shivers down his spine.

Otonashi replied, "The financial department suggests we start with an initial printing of 150,000 books."

"What the actual fuck?" Oowada growled, "That's not nearly enough, you dumbass."

"Hah? What the fuck did you say to me, bitch?"

_Huh?_

"Mhmm," stammered Fujisaki, "F-Fukawa-sensei is a p-p-popular mangaka. I'd s-say start with 225,000."

"This is the first volume of her new series. We can't take such a risk."

"Y-You just d-don't know how to t-take necessary risks, y-you know n-nothing about business."

"Fuck you! Oowada, tell Fujisaki that he's delusional!"

_What?_

Oowada did tell Fujisaki something, but not what Otonashi wanted to hear. "300,000 copies."

"HUH?" Fujisaki yelped incredulously.

"AHAHAHAH!" Otonashi cackled, slamming her fist onto the table repeatedly, "WAKE UP AND SMELL THE ROSES! You're fucking crazy, Oowada!"

"I won't settle for any fucking less," spat Oowada, "300,000 copies is the very least I'll allow to be printed."

_Why is everyone so hostile?_

"D-Don't be s-stupid, 250,000 is th-the very M-MAXIMUM that we can pr-print, let alone 300,000!"

Otonashi's face twitched in exasperation. "We'd be willing to print 220,000, but that's the fuCKING HIGHEST WE'RE GOING!"

The three heads of their respective sections kept screaming and cursing at each other, unable to settle on a number of books to print for its first run.  _Are all meetings this chaotic? Someone ought to restore the order!_

"Everyone, please!" Ishimaru cut in, "There must be a way we can debate this matter in an orderly fashion-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, NEWBIE!" Everyone yelled at him in response.

His face flushed a bright red and he fought back the tears. He was competent enough to defend himself and get them to quiet down, but he knew it was useless to do so, since there was no indication that they would stop being stubborn and stop bickering any time soon.

"Ugh, you're all fucking idiots, all of you! Maybe the top dog will have more sense than you dense sons of bitches," hollered Oowada.

"Y-Yes, l-let's ask him. H-Hagakure, how many c-copies should we sell?"

"Hmmm," pondered Hagakure, "Maybe 272,428 and a bit?"

"STOP HALF-ASSING THIS, YOU WISHY-WASHY BITCH!"

"H-Hey!"

* * *

After what seemed like an eternity, the meeting finally ended, the ultimate decision being 300,000 copies (Oowada had eventually won, living up to his reputation as the almighty head editor of Diamond who could do anything). Ishimaru was completely worn-out solely by watching the meeting; he was scared to imagine how dead on the inside he would be if he actually participated.

When he returned to his workstation, he heard his cellphone vibrating. He reached into his bag and pulled it out too late, missing the call. He turned it on and realized he had six missed calls... from his father.

Ishimaru blinked at his phone's screen in confusion. He squinted, then rubbed his eyes with his free hand to make sure he was seeing correctly. Indeed he was, his father had really called him. But why? If he, his father of all people, had called six times, it must be important.

"Excuse me," Ishimaru called out to Diamond department, "I have a private call I must take."

He called his father back and scampered out of the office and into the rest area. The phone hadn't been dialing for one second before his father picked up.

"Kiyotaka! Where were you?! Do you realize how much of a burden you were to me, not answering my calls?"

Ishimaru couldn't help feeling hurt by the cold remark, but feigned composure. "I am sorry, father, I was in an important meeting at work. What is the matter?"

"Work? Ha! Working on literature is hardly work."

"Oh, no father, I work on shoujo manga now."

"Sh-Shoujo manga? That's even worse! Ugh. Thanks to you not answering your phone, you're late!"

The editor furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, despite the fact that his father couldn't possibly see his facial expression.

"Late? Late for what?"

"Get over here immediately! You're humiliating me in front of my superior at work. We're at Aronia de Takazawa. Don't disappoint me; be prompt!"

With those harsh words, Ishimaru's father hung up the phone. Ishimaru allowed himself to stay in a stupor for mere seconds before he sped-walk back towards the office. He burst in and began collecting his stuff in a hurried fashion.

Tanaka was the first to notice Ishimaru packing up. "Superior mortal," he beckoned, "I believe Ishimaru is preparing the rituals to leave the physical mortal realm."

The head editor swiftly looked up and caught Ishimaru in the act. "Oi, asshole, what the fuck are you doing?"

Ishimaru hastily responded, "I'm terribly sorry! I must leave immediately."

"Huh?! What the fuck, why?! It's barely lunch time, you can't fucking leave in the middle of the workday!"

"I apologize for the tremendous inconvenience, but... Please... I... I just received a call from my... my f-father."

Hinata snarked, "Your daddy-O called you? So what? What's the big deal, you can't just leave us with your work."

However, Oowada visibly softened at the mention of Ishimaru's father. He looked away, scrunching his facial features in frustration, then grumbled.

"Fine. Just go before I change my mind and beat you to a pulp."

"Oh dear," Sonia piped, "It seems boss' biker days are coming back." Ishimaru silently agreed with amusement that more and more of Oowada's traits as a delinquent were showing as he became more and more frustrated.

The ex-biker glared at her, then stared at Ishimaru. "What the fuck're ya waitin' for? Get the hell out."

"Y-Yes!" Ishimaru said, "Good work, everyone!" He all but sprinted out of the office building. Aronia de Takazawa was one of the most prestigious restaurants in Tokyo. The French-Japanese restaurant only accepted two tables of four each day, leading Ishimaru to wonder how his father got a reservation and what was so important that his father called him there for. There was no way Ishimaru would get to the restaurant any time soon if he commuted by train, so he hailed a taxi, dreading the worst.

...

"You must be the last member of the first party. Right this way, please."

An out-of-breath Ishimaru followed a short and pudgy chef to a secluded room. Even though he rode a cab to the high-end restaurant, it still took him twenty minutes to arrive, which felt like an eternity to Ishimaru, knowing his father and potentially his work superior were waiting for him all that time. The room's door was opened by the chef, to whom Ishimaru bowed slightly in gratitude to, and he stood up straight before entering.

Three pairs of eyes shifted to focus on him. Ishimaru almost panicked, realizing that not only his father, but two other people, a man of big and intimidating stature and a young woman, were all waiting for him to arrive. It was at this moment that Ishimaru remembered he hadn't bathed in three days. He cleared his throat nervously, then bowed down to a near ninety-degree angle.

"I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience!" Ishimaru bellowed, "I deeply regret making you all wait, my tardiness is truly inexcusable, please, reprimand me!"

Everyone was taken aback by his bold apology. After a few seconds of stunned silence his father smiled.

"Kiyotaka, I'm glad you could make it on short notice! Come, take a seat, there are introductions that simply must be made."

Although his greeting was warm, Ishimaru saw the subtle stone cold scowl in his father's grey eyes and knew the warmth was false and intended to deceive Ishimaru's father's superior in work into thinking Ishimaru and his father had a loving and non-scandalous relationship. But the deceit stung even more, because for the majority of his life, his father truly acted, no, he truly was like this: kind, caring, and loving, all aspects he hadn't seen in his father in almost five years.

As he took his seat, the man chortled heartily. "Takaaki, your son is even more respectable and delightful than you made him out to be! He is everything and more that the former Super High School Level Disciplinary Committee Member should be! I'm privileged that my daughter has such a tremendous honour."

"Oh no, sir," Takaaki said, "My son and I are the ones who are blessed."

"Oh, Takaaki, there's no need to be so formal and call me 'sir' anymore, we're going to become practically brothers after today! Call me by my first name!"

Ishimaru was confused and wanted to know what was going on, but he simply kept silent and smiled at the exchange. It was what his father wanted him to do, without a doubt. He raised his cup to his lips and drank some (now cold) tea.

"Akira, this is Ishimaru Kiyotaka, my beloved only son." Ishimaru nearly scoffed at his father's affectionate words, practically feeling the lies oozing out of them. His father continued. "Kiyotaka, this is Mr. Oda Akira, the Commissioner-General of the National Police Agency." Ishimaru nearly choked on his tea. The highest ranking police officer was casually dining with him and insisting that his father call him by his given name? What on earth was going on? Ishimaru stood to shake the Commisioner-General's hand.

"Ah, what a fine gentleman," Oda noted as he stood and firmly shook Ishimaru's hand, "A clear indication of the upbringing he received from you, Takaaki!" Ishimaru couldn't help liking the man. Oda looked intimidating, but he seemed like a jolly and gentle giant, seeing as he was even taller and broader than Oowada at full height. They each sat back down just as the door opened and a waiter rolled in a cart full of French-Japanese food.

"Oh, Kiyotaka, we ordered without you, that's all right, isn't it, son?" his father asked. Ishimaru could hear the true implication.  _You were late so we had to order without you, and you embarrassed me quite a bit._

"Yes, father, of course," he answered promptly and properly. He was aware that he was being emotionally abused, but he couldn't bear being anything but moral and orderly around the Commissioner-General of Japan. 

As they began eating, the whole atmosphere of the situation bothered Ishimaru. Something about this supposed formal meal with Oda seemed wrong, and Ishimaru wondered if there was more than meets the eye. 

"Let's cut to the chase, shall we?" Oda said. Takaaki swallowed, and added, "Yes, let's." 

Oda beckoned to the young woman beside him. She was a pretty maiden, with pale freckled skin, short raven black hair skillfully styled into a braided bun, and pointed, icy blue eyes. "I'm sure you already know who this is from your time together at Hope's Peak Academy, but this is my daughter, Ikusaba Mukuro."

Ishimaru abruptly stood from his chair, earning a brief look of impatient scorn from his father. The woman radiating with such poise and grace was his former classmate Ikusaba Mukuro?

Oda blinked at him, his face hardening sternly. "Is something the matter?"

"Ah, no, Mr. Oda, forgive me for being rude," Ishimaru asserted, "Admittedly, it is a shock knowing that this beautiful woman in front of me is Ikusaba Mukuro, my fellow comrade in the 78th Class. She has matured quite a bit since I last saw her."

Oddly, Ikusaba averted her icy eyes and blushed at the compliment. As far as Ishimaru knew, the only person that could make her blush was Naegi, whom she had a crush on back in high school. Ishimaru shrugged off the oddity. She had probably just become more sensitive and emotional over the years, since she seemed much more feminine now than she did throughout their time at Hope's Peak.

"You flatter me, Ishimaru," Ikusaba said, finally looking directly at him again, "You always have been endearingly honest."

"Ishimaru, I can see you're even finer than I initially thought you to be. I like you even more, now! You'll be a fine police officer." Oda praised the editor.

Ishimaru wasn't sure if he heard that right. "Police officer, sir?"

"That is in our favour, Akira," Takaaki replied, ignoring Ishimaru, "Considering the nature of our meeting today and what must be done."

Ishimaru realized his hunch was right. There was much more to the sudden meeting than a simple lunch.

Takaaki's facial expression straightened. He declared, "Kiyotaka, Mr. Oda and I would like for you to marry Ms. Ikusaba."

All the blood drained from Ishimaru's face, his eyes widened, and his jaw nearly dropped agape with shock.  _What?!_ Oh no. This was the worst possible scenario imaginable. He was currently one of the participants in an arranged marriage interviewthat he had no previous warning or idea about. He resisted glancing at his father in disbelief. He couldn't even be informed that he was being sent off to be married to someone he hadn't seen or talked to in eight years? Did his father disregard him that much?

Ishimaru realized he had remained silent for a moment too long. "Thank you, I am honored that you would choose me, Mr. Oda."

"It truly is, Akira," added Takaaki, "We are so humbled and excited that Kiyotaka is to be engaged to the Commissioner-General's daughter, herself, as well as serving alongside her in the police force."

Ishimaru was no longer who he was ten years ago. He was no longer socially ignorant, nor was he oblivious to the atmosphere. He knew it was inappropriate, but he still needed to take a stand, or, as much as he could stand without offending Oda and Ikusaba.

He said, "I do not mean to be rude, but my father and I have important matters to discuss regarding the engagement and... the change of career. Please excuse us."

"Oh," Oda said in slight surprise, "But of course." Ishimaru and his father stood up, bowed slightly, then made their way to the foyer of the restaurant, Ikusaba's eyes fixated on them until they left the room. Once they were out of hearing range, his father hissed at Ishimaru.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Ishimaru stood his ground. "I should be asking the same question, father. You called me out of the blue, with no prior notice at all, to a marriage interview? Why would you arrange something like that without my consent? Without even my knowledge?"

"Does it matter?" Takaaki seethed, "Ikusaba Mukuro is a nice young lady. She will be a great wife and life partner for you, Kiyotaka."

"I haven't seen that 'nice young lady' since I graduated from high school! You cannot expect me to marry someone I have not seen in nearly a decade and someone I was never very close with in the first place! And one normally lets one's son know about an arrangement at a fancy restaurant, let alone marriage interviews!"

"Don't be ungrateful. It has been your dream ever since you were young to restore honour to our family name, has it not? This is your golden opportunity, Kiyotaka. Marrying into the Commissioner-General of Japan's family will surely establish the Ishida family as a restored and respectable lineage."

"But I never wanted 'golden opportunities' to be handed to me like they would be to geniuses, I don't want automatic success! I want to achieve my goal by achieving greatness through my own hard work! Marrying into Mr. Oda's family is not what I-- wait a second." Ishimaru glowered at his father as suspicion crossed his mind. "This isn't about me or my goals, is it, _father_? This isn't about my happiness, my marriage, or my life at all. Truthfully, this is about you."

"Preposterous. How dare you make such outrageous accusations-"

"They're not outrageous, they're the truth. You've been set on improving your status at work since I was twenty years old. This isn't about my betrothal. This is about you making connections with the highest ranking police officer in the country for promotions and fame! You'd even trick him to the extent of lying that I will join the police! How despicable, how immoral, how... how corrupt!"

Takaaki slapped Ishimaru across his face.

Ishimaru clutched at the throbbing pain in his cheek, tears prickling at the corners of his wide eyes. 

"You..." he managed to whisper, "You should be ashamed of yourself... using me... your own son... for your own defiled advantage."

Ishimaru staggered backwards as he was slapped again. Takaaki stared daggers at his son, and clutched the front of Ishimaru's shirt in his fist.

"Listen here,  _son_ ," he breathed furiously, "This  _is_ your dream."

"No... No it is not..."

"Yes. It. Is. You wish to work hard, yes? Then work hard. Work hard as a police officer. Work hard at wooing Ikusaba. Work hard at keeping her happy and loving her throughout your marriage."

"Forever? But my studies... all my previous work will be for naught...!"

His father's grip on his shirt tightened. "Your studies and work were useless to start with. Literature? Shoujo manga? Don't make me laugh. You'll never restore the Ishida name with the measly 'hard work' you currently have to offer. The world is cruel and unforgiving, Kiyotaka, they will not accept you if you are not adequate, and you are not."

His father had started treating him coldly when he was twenty years old.

Halfway into his studies in literature.

Ishimaru realized... that he had caused his parents' disappointment... and gradual abandonment altogether. They had seen the futility of his literature degrees... far before he could.

Takaaki continued, "If you had stayed with your initial choice of studying politics, you would not be in this mess. You could have studied politics and worked hard to become a good Ishimaru Prime Minister, but you did not. You chose to work uselessly. You brought everything upon yourself."

His father had been so loving before. How did his greed for power completely warp him into the manipulative and remorseless monster he was now? Where did his dad go?

"Do you understand? This is your one chance at redemption. This is your only chance to make things right. To redeem the Ishida name, you must ascend even further into greatness. You will join the police force and work your way up until you are a prominent name in law enforcement."

Tears streamed down Ishimaru's face. "I..."

Takaaki scowled. "Why the hell are you still so reluctant? You're twenty-five-

"Twenty-six-"

"Twenty-six years old. It's time you get a better job anyway!"

"... I... I do not... want to..." He knew this was unlawful. His father was physically and emotionally abusing him.

_Resist. Stand up for yourself for all the times you didn't._

"Why are you so hesitant to marry Ikusaba in the first place? It's not like you have any other women you're married to. Hell, you're not even dating anyone at the moment!"

"..." Ishimaru pursed his lips and his eyes darted to the floor.

Takaaki widened his eyes and mouth in realization. "You... you're still fixated on that little boyfriend of yours from high school."

Ishimaru stiffened. Not because his father was potentially right, but because he could feel the mood between them shift dangerously.

"Ah, yes, the little delinquent, Mondo-kun," cooed Takaaki, "He treated you well enough... I can see why you'd be hung up on him to this day." He slapped Ishimaru again. "Give him up. He is not worth your time or your efforts. He is an outcast from society, an ex-biker gang leader that cheated on you for God's fucking sake, he will never help achieve your goals. Never!"

"..."

"Still not giving him up? I'll make you." He placed his hand on Ishimaru's shoulder and gripped it tightly, causing Ishimaru to wince and grit his teeth in pain.

"I'll tell you what," Takaaki murmured, strained, "If you do not give Ikusaba your hand in marriage, I. Will. Kill. Oowada Mondo."

Ishimaru exhaled raggedly, as if somebody had knocked the wind out of him. "N-No..."

"Yes. Seize your chance, Kiyotaka, seize the day. Make use of this opportunity, work hard with Ikusaba, work hard being a policeman, and achieve both of our goals. Otherwise, your precious little boy toy dies."

_..._

_I cannot resist._

Ishimaru knew that if he kept standing up for myself, Oowada would take the fall.

_I cannot damn Oowada to his demise..... because..... because....._

Taking Ishimaru's lack of rebuttal as victory, Takaaki pressed a small box into Ishimaru's quivering hand and slapped him across the face until Ishimaru stopped weeping. The editor wiped the tears obscuring his vision away, if only to feign happiness to Oda and Ikusaba, and opened the box.

Resting daintily inside were two matching engagement rings.

* * *

The two made their way back to the room and took their seats. Takaaki resumed eating as if nothing had happened, as if nothing had mattered.

"Ishid- I mean, Ishimaru," Ikusaba said, "Are you all right? You look like you have been crying."

Takaaki's chopsticks faltered only for a split second. Ishimaru did not falter at all and nodded.

"I have been crying, but I am all right. I could not help but shed tears of happiness while my father and I were discussing some plans. I am overjoyed that we will be wed..."

Ikusaba was frozen in place for a good three seconds, after which she flashed him a small smile.

Oda darted his eyes from Ikusaba, to Ishimaru, back to his daughter, to Takaaki, then finally, back to Ishimaru.

"I pray that I am not demanding too much when I ask only that I am given a year's betrothal period before I am to officially join the police force and be married."

Takaaki's chopsticks faltered for two whole seconds, Ikusaba knit her eyebrows in inquiry, and Oda stared at Ishimaru.

"Ahahaaa... excited to serve the police force to the fullest?" drawled Takaaki, a fixed stare pointed at his insufferable son.

Oda questioned, "What is the matter? Why would you delay in serving the police? In signing the marriage papers?"

"I simply ask for time to spend with my fiancée before we are bound for life. Marriage is a sacred bond, and I would like to purify the presently-inadequate bond that Ikusaba and I have. I would use the year to spend time with her, get to know her, all her desires, goals, fears, everything."

Ikusaba blushed heavily at Ishimaru's smooth-talking, but in contrast, Oda looked at him with an expression that could only be the facial expression he used to interrogate high-profile criminals.

"A year is too much," deadpanned Oda. "Six months."

Six months was barely enough to buy him time before the lifelong commitment of marriage, but Oda did not seem to be in any mood for negotiations, so Ishimaru agreed. 

Upon succeeding in his bargain, Oda softened back to his jolly demeanor. "Great, six months it is. My daughter will be so happy you're willing to invest time in her."

"Yes, my son is quite the caring courter!" Takaaki chimed, looking slightly shaken. He added, "And he will aspire to serve the police force well."

To finalize the arrangement, Ishimaru pulled out the ring box, took Ikusaba's ring, and gently slid it onto her finger. As he reluctantly slid his ring onto his own finger for show, Ikusaba stared at her ring in awe, then broke into a smile. Ishimaru was happy for her. Really, he was. He just wished that he could be happy too. But evidently, his happiness did not matter.

* * *

After the meal and arrangement, they paid the bill and went outside.

"I'll drive you home, son," said Takaaki gleefully.

It wasn't compensation for what his father had cursed him with, but it was something. "Really? Thank you, father."

Oda smiled at them. Ikusaba was smiling too, but at her new ring.

"Take care, now," Oda called out, "I am glad our arrangement was unanimous and set in stone."

"Yes, thank you," greeted Takaaki, "Farewell." They all bowed to each other, then Oda and Ikusaba left first.

Takaaki pointed out his car to Ishimaru, and the latter seated himself in the front passenger seat. They departed in silence. The whole ride back was awkward, but luckily, it didn't last long. Takaaki pulled over at a subway station.

"Here's your stop," he said pointedly, "Get out."

Ishimaru turned to look at his father. "Father, I believe you may be mistaken, this is not my house."

"Do you think I'm stupid? I know it's not. I only said I'd drive you home in front of Akira, only for the sake of keeping up appearances."

Ishimaru shuddered in pain, and hastily exited the car and ran to the station without saying goodbye.

This was the worst day in his life. He thought he had more self-worth, he thought he was more valuable as a person. But no, in the end, his father proved that he was merely his pawn; a dispensable tool in his father's hunger for ambition and status. All his hard work up until now would be naught as he was reduced to his father's mindless slave.

Would his father ever snap out of his insanity? Would he ever be treated like a son ever again? 

* * *

As he entered his townhouse complex, Ishimaru spotted Oowada off in the distance, taking Charlie for an evening walk. He stared solemnly, reminded of the fact that he couldn't even choose who he loved anymore. And he had been so close, hadn't he? He had determined he was at least attracted to Oowada, but he would have to have his heart broken all over again. He couldn't love Oowada. He had to love Ikusaba.

Oowada being the last person he wanted to talk to at the moment, Ishimaru tried to go home without being spotted, and he almost did, but Charlie noticed him and excitedly barked at him, causing Oowada to see him, too. The head editor and the Maltese puppy jogged alongside each other to Ishimaru.

"Hey, Ishimaru," said Oowada, looking worried. "Was everything... okay? W-With your dad, I mean."

Ishimaru looked into Oowada's lilac eyes, so piercing even in the dark Autumn evening, seeing genuine concern in them. They contrasted heavily with his father's dull grey eyes only ever filled with scorn and disdain that day. They only served to remind Ishimaru of how greatly he was betraying Oowada by agreeing to marry Ikusaba. It was all too much for him to handle. He sobbed, channeling all the pain and regret he felt that day through his cries and tears.

Oowada looked down at the sobbing editor with a sympathetic look on his face. "That fuckin' bad, huh..."

Ishimaru nodded, bringing his left hand up to his face to wipe his tears. Oowada froze in alarm.

"Wha... What the fuck?" Oowada whispered, his eyes widening as his breathing shook.

Ishimaru paused, and looked up at the petrified head editor. "What...?"

Oowada's hand shot forward and closed around Ishimaru's wrist. The head editor sharply yanked Ishimaru's arm until the latter's hand was directly in front of his face. The smaller editor grimaced in pain, but his face paled in terror when he realized what had upset Oowada.

He was staring directly at the engagement ring on Ishimaru's finger.

Oh God, no. Ishimaru had forgotten to take it off. He had completely forgotten about the ring, and now Oowada saw it.

Oowada was silent for a long time. His hands were clenched, one still around Ishimaru's wrist, and shaking in fury, but his facial expression was etched with pain. His eyebrows were knit other wide and glossy eyes, his jaw agape.

"So, this is what the big deal with your father was," he grumbled under his breath, "You ran off with him to get fucking engaged to someone, yeah?"

Ishimaru sobbed, "N-No, Oowada, please-"

"Don't FUCKING plead with me, yer pathetic, you son of a bitch!" Oowada was hollering now, and he threw Ishimaru's arm down and away.

"Fujisaki was right all along."

"What? No, that is not true!"

"Like hell it isn't! You were stringing me along and leading me on this whole time. You were pretending to be in love with me, when all this time, you were actually in love with some chick. And yer going to fucking marry her who knows when, but you made me believe that I had a chance! That you recip... recipro... FUCK! THAT YOU RECIPROCATED MY FEELINGS, DAMMIT! I OUGHT TO BEAT YOUR FUCKING ASS!"

Ishimaru flinched when he saw Oowada bringing his fist back, but he made no effort to dodge the impending hit. He deserved this.

But he never got hit. Oowada stopped his fist in its tracks, inches away from Ishimaru's face. The former delinquent breathed heavily, his eyes were crazed and darting from Ishimaru to his fist. Finally, with a choked sigh, he lowered his hand to his side in resignation.

"I really loved you, you know," muttered Oowada, "I really did. But you were toying with me this whole time. And now you left me, just like you did eight years ago."

The blow struck Ishimaru's heart, but he had no right to object anymore. Oowada was right. It was as simple as that. "Yes."

Oowada's lips quivered. "Don't ever talk to me again," he spat. He stared at Ishimaru for one last moment, then turned on his heel, opened the door to his house, and slammed the door.

...

Ishimaru barely remembered how he managed to go inside his own house. All he remembered was hearing Oowada screaming and punching in agony through the thin walls that separated them. 

 

At twenty-six years old, Ishimaru knew that love was twisted, complex, and that it was never meant to be. Love was unattainable. He would never... ever...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Months after Oowada and Ishimaru have fallen out, they are forced to go on a business trip together.  
> \-----  
> There is a persisting problem with this fic. I have the general storyline planned out and completed, but not the chapter progressions, resulting in the slow updates. Thank you for bearing with my slow writing/planning pace and reading TGFL! I truly appreciate all of you!  
> (On an unrelated note, I've been noticing more and more Ishimaru-centric fics using the "emotional scale" of 1-10. I know I wasn't the first one to implement it in my writing, but still, hmmm... I find it amusing XD)  
> HEY PSST I LIKE COMMENTS LEAVE ONE DOWN BELOW FOR YO' NERD, GALAXIES


	7. Contrite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been two months since Ishimaru agreed to marry Ikusaba. They get along well enough and learn much about each other, but Ishimaru cannot seem to fall in love with her no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Okay Galaxies, you're not going to leave your wonderful readers hanging this time. They wait for you to get your shit together for so long every chapter, so it's time to pay them back! You WILL write faster! You WILL have the next chapter done before one month passes by!"  
> Well. That sure went according to plan. QwQ  
> 

As far as Ishimaru could remember, Ikusaba Mukuro had never been the sociable type.

During their time together in Hope's Peak Academy, Ikusaba Mukuro always seemed to be the odd one out. Being a class of only sixteen students, the members of the 78th Class had naturally bonded fairly quickly and strongly. Though some took longer to open up to him, namely Togami, Celes, and... Oowada..., everybody ultimately became the best of friends. Everyone, that is, except Ikusaba; the soldier always lingered on the outskirts of the class, avoiding all social interaction. It wasn't as if the rest of the 78th Class intentionally excluded her. Ikusaba merely seemed unwilling to reciprocate their feelings of friendship towards her, and slowly but surely, most attempts to add her to their close-knit circle of soul brothers and sisters faded away until they stopped completely.

Ishimaru and Ikusaba had barely talked in high school. From afar, they may have seemed like the more likely couple than him and Oowada, if only for the reasons that they both had black hair and senses of discipline. However, their interactions were minimal. Ikusaba never bothered to greet Ishimaru unless he loudly acknowledged her first. She was like that towards everyone; she almost never talked to anybody and knew almost nothing about anybody. Consequently, he had started to wonder if Ikusaba was a cold person, but Kirigiri had mentioned at one point that Ikusaba was probably trying harder to maintain a cold exterior than even she was, causing him to wonder about Ikusaba's true nature beneath her facade.

Ikusaba was never even seen outside of the shadow of her sister until partway through the first year, when she started wandering alone, her eyes fixated on Naegi. Even then, she never made an effort to mingle with the 78th Class social circle. She only ever watched him from afar such as participating in class/school events only if Naegi was also participating. Rumors that she was crushing on the luckster spread like wildfire, a fire that seemed like a dying ember in comparison to the flames of romantic tension that seemed to ignite between Naegi and Kirigiri. 

Ishimaru, if he were to be completely honest, found his engagement to Ikusaba puzzling. The pair had became betrothed to one another two months ago. Throughout the two months, Ishimaru had begrudgingly gone out on many dates with his fiancée, and on all of them, Ikusaba had paid much attention to him and had seemed genuinely friendly, caring, and perhaps even, dare he say it, loving. He remembered, in high school, accidentally eavesdropping on a conversation between Ikusaba and her twin sister, Enoshima, in which the fashionista had mocked the mercenary for pretending to be emotionless when in actuality, her emotions were painfully obvious and influenced her every decision. If that was the case, if emotions were so serious to her, how had Ikusaba come to feel so strongly for him? Up until graduation, as far as he knew, Ikusaba still liked Naegi, leaving no opportunity for someone as emotionally invested as her to suddenly change her object of affection to Ishimaru, especially since they hadn't seen each other for eight years after that point. The more he pondered, however, the more questions than answers he conjured, like why she even loved him.

However, the more time he spent with Ikusaba, the more he realized that he had so many things he wanted to know about her than he thought he had. They got to make up for time lost in Hope's Peak not speaking to one another by getting to know each other on their dates.

  * She was adopted by Oda after she graduated from Hope's Peak Academy.
  * Despite her indifferent exterior back in high school, she was actually out-of-touch with her own emotions as a result of emotional and mental abuse.
  * In actuality, her own younger sister, Enoshima, was the one who abused her. Being showered with fatherly love from Oda instead of scorn and manipulation from Enoshima vastly helped her become more emotionally stable.
  * Though she had many stereotypical qualities as a former mercenary, such as her preference of field rations over other meals and her inhuman ability to fight, she also had hidden soft spots such as her love for cute animals like cats and rabbits.
  * She was an excellent police officer due to her guerrilla training, but she almost always felt remorse for the people she arrested.



Naturally, Ishimaru expressed interest for the former mercenary. He wanted to know more about her, such as her adventures in Fenrir, her thought processes, her fears, hopes, dreams, and more. He also felt sympathy for the former mercenary, but he couldn't help feeling miserable everytime he went out with Ikusaba or talked to her. It was nice catching up with Ikusaba after so long, but...

He wanted to know more about Oowada. He wanted to go out with Oowada.

Everything he did with Ikusaba, he wanted to do with Oowada. The more he spent time with Ikusaba, the more it hit him that he was stuck with Ikusaba until the end of time, the more it hit him that he could never be with Oowada. The more he spent time with Ikusaba, the more his heart longed for his tyrannical yet sweet head editor, the more he realized he loved Oowada. Why had it taken him so long to realize it? Why had he realized it too late?

* * *

Oda and Ikusaba were both set on having the latter spend as much time with Ishimaru as possible, so the editor agreed to quickly eat breakfast with his fiancée before going to work. He arrived at the café fifteen minutes earlier than their arranged meeting time only to see that Ikusaba was already waiting for him.

"Good morning," said Ishimaru out of politeness, "You're quite early."

Ikusaba showed no signs of emotions. Yet. "Being punctual was drilled into me from a young age."

The two were similar in these ways, their pasts accelerating their loss of innocence and forcing them to learn discipline from a young age. However, that was the only connection Ishimaru felt with his fiancée. He didn't feel in love with her or even the desire to be loving to her, after all, he was pretty much abused into accepting the marriage proposal against his own will. 

They sat at a table for two beside a window. As they waited for their server, Ikusaba gingerly placed her right hand across the table ask if asking Ishimaru to hold it. He eyed the Fenrir tattoo hesitantly before relenting, reaching out to stroke her thumb, then quickly drawing his hand back to open the menu in front of him. Ikusaba lowered her eyes, then drew back her own hand as well. Ishimaru looked anywhere but at her. He didn't mean to be cold towards his fiancée, but no matter how much time he spent with her or go to know her, he had never been excited by her touch. 

She looked at his hand. "You're not wearing your engagement ring again."

Ishimaru glanced down at his ring-less left ring finger, then looked straight at her.

"I am sorry, Ikusaba," he responded, "My work requires me to work with paper and various tools, and the ring becomes a hindrance, dare I say a hazard, especially so since I am left-handed." Of course, this was a real reason, but it was not all of it...

Her eyes flicked downwards. "Ah..."

He flashed her a small smile. "I hope you understand. I promise I will wear my ring when I become a police officer."

She seemed to be satisfied with that, since her face reverted to its normal stoic expression. The server arrived, Ishimaru ordered for them, as he had fully memorized Ikusaba's order, since she was not the type to try new things (seriously, every single opportunity she got, she got the same thing for breakfast).

"How is work going, Kiyotaka?"

Ishimaru almost flinched at the call of his given name, but gave no indication of it. "It is going quite smoothly, thank you for asking. We managed to submit all of our manuscripts on time, for once."

"Manuscripts..." Ikusaba pondered quietly.

They settled into a slightly awkward silence after that. Ikusaba never had much to comment on about Ishimaru's days or interests, and Ishimaru never had much incentive to keep conversations with his fiancée going, so this was a regular occurrence for them. They simply did not have many things they could relate to.

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Fishing it out, he realized he received a text message from Pekoyama-sensei.

_Did the manuscript get to the printers just fine?_

Ishimaru nearly smacked himself in the face. Editors were supposed to contact their authors as soon as their manuscripts are submitted to the printers so that they didn't freak out or think their manuscripts hadn't gotten to the printer on time. Yet in his stupor, he had forgotten to let the mangaka know that her manuscript had been successfully submitted. He hastily typed a reply to her.

_I'm terribly sorry for the late notice! Yes, it did._

_That's all right, and thank goodness. :)_

Ishimaru was about to put his phone away, as it was rude to Ikusaba to text in her presence, but Pekoyama double-texted, prompting him to check it again.

_Ishimaru, is everything all right at the office? The book-making pace has gotten a lot faster than usual these past two months._

Indeed, the cycle had sped up considerably. Instead of leaving manuscripts until the last minute and deteriorating into corpses at the end of the cycle like the editors of Diamond department usually did, they had actually been getting their work done ahead of schedule. Many authors, like Pekoyama, and other editing departments had questioned Diamond about this sudden change, since it was notorious for leaving things until over the deadline and its editors rotting away until the manuscripts were published. Ishimaru knew the reason for this change: Oowada. The head editor, who was already renowned for being a highly competent editor, had somehow managed to step up his game even more and push his subordinates and authors to work quicker according to their schedules. Thanks to his supervision, Diamond department was meticulously publishing books on time and its editors were not on the verge of dying every month. To outsiders, the change was good. It was good that Diamond got its act together, right?

Nope. Ishimaru knew that was far from true. Oowada didn't act anything like himself for the past two months. He never yelled or swore in the office anymore, and every editor in the department knew it could only mean that Oowada was depressed. So the editor-in-chief's obvious misery prompted the other editors to work faster in an effort to improve his mood, to no avail. Ishimaru began typing absentmindedly. 

_No, everything is not all right, Pekoyama-sensei. I fucked up. I led on my ex-lover, making him think I loved him back when I wasn't even sure of my feelings, only to shatter his heart and render him depressed when I got engaged to someone else. Now I know I love him, but it's too late, because I'm marrying my fiancée in four months, and he wouldn't even believe me if I told him._

His finger hovered over the  _Send_ button for only a second before he deleted the message. 

 _Yes,_ he typed instead,  _everything is all right, thank you for your concern._

Ikusaba's soft voice cut through the silence. "Who are you texting?"

"My mangaka, Pekoyama-sensei." 

Ikusaba's face morphed into a face of irritation for a split second, then masked over into her usual stoic expression.

"I still don't understand why you're continuing to work as a manga editor when you have a guaranteed position as a police officer."

Something in Ishimaru's stomach tightened and knotted at the dissonance between Ikusaba's soft voice and the biting edge of her words. She occasionally became like this; possessive, questioning, and plain terrifying at times, especially when his work as an editor or their marriage were mentioned. Ishimaru swallowed and tried to keep his composure the best he could.

"To be honest," he said, "I don't really know. I suppose I do not like to leave loose threads hanging. There is still much to do and I do not want to leave abruptly."

Before Ikusaba could protest more, their food arrived. Glad for the interruption, Ishimaru immediately dug into his breakfast. Thankfully, his fiancée dropped the subject. He couldn't tell her his real reason for continuing to work as an editor, afterall. He actually wanted to stall the time he had to himself until he married her and was barred from a life with Oowada forever.

...

After their meal together, Ikusaba offered to drive Ishimaru to Marukawa Shoten, and he accepted more out of politeness and obligation than sincere gratitude. Ishimaru had barely climbed into her silver Honda Civic and closed the door when Ikusaba slammed down on the accelerator with her foot. The editor involuntarily let out a scream as his backside forcibly collided with the seat behind him, and he fumbled to put his seatbelt on. The police officer showed no concern for her flailing and no doubt terrified fiancé as she continued speeding and weaving through traffic in a haphazard manner.

"I...Ikusaba..." stammered Ishimaru, "P-Please slow down!"

She must have complied, for the cars appeared to pass by them more slowly than before when Ishimaru dared to peek at the windshield. They had stopped switching lanes whenever a car was in front of them, too. Ishimaru breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry," she said, "My time as a mercenary has made me paranoid. I had to constantly be on the move, less a bullet or blade pierce me, my reflexes were always on edge, and my brain was always going haywire due to the fact that I had to make split-second decisions every step I took, every second I remained still, and every turn I made. Even now, I feel an immense sense of urgency in everything I do, especially while driving. It's like... it's like I can't take it slow or relax, or something will happen to me, just like I learned was the case in Fenrir."

Ishimaru turned to stare at her, partially to look at anywhere but the windshield, but mostly in awe. Ikusaba's past was a completely different world from what Ishimaru knew. When Ishimaru was twelve, the biggest threats he faced were bullies and abuse from his mother, but Ikusaba was avoiding being killed on the battlefield at that age. He couldn't fathom what she went through and how the experience of being a child soldier warped her psychological and mental state, but he was slowly learning more.

"Er, that's fine. Just please attempt to drive safely and follow the laws."

Ikusaba smiled. "You're still as uptight about rules and public safety as you were a decade ago."

Ishimaru flushed. "Well... Well of course! My... erm...  _concern_ for morals were so serious and dedicated that it got me scouted for Hope's Peak Academy! A characteristic so deeply rooted within me couldn't have possibly changed throughout the years, I mean, it's my most basic characteristic!"

"You have a point, the traits that modeled us into Hope's Peak Academy students wouldn't leave us so easily."

"Yes, that's absolutely correct. They practically made us who we are and will continue to. But I didn't take you to be the type to tease me about my... um... uptight-ness."

Ikusaba failed to stop herself from giggling. "I will quote Oowada when I say everybody, even me, noticed the 'stick in your ass'."

At the mention of Oowada's name, Ishimaru felt a stinging pain in his chest. He glanced away from Ikusaba. He knew she couldn't have possibly known about him and Oowada engaging in romantic acts recently, but her mention of Oowada still hurt.

Oblivious to Ishimaru's pain, Ikusaba continued, "True, I didn't seem like the type. I mainly observed the class from afar and kept my comments to myself, after all."

"So basically you just mentally shit-talked everyone?"

"...Yes, essentially."

"Oh, okay- Oh my Go-- KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD!"

Ikusaba darted her eyes to the windshield and swerved into the lane on her right to avoid a braking car, nearly stopping Ishimaru's heart in the process. It was only when the car came to a complete stop that he realized that Ikusaba had conveniently managed to swerve right right when they had reached Marukawa Shoten, and so they were parallel parked right by the entrance of the building. 

"Thank you for the ride," Ishimaru murmured as he unbuckled his seatbelt, trying not to vomit, "I'll talk to you later, Ikusaba."

"Not a problem at all." Ishimaru had opened the car door when Ikusaba spoke out again.

"Um, Kiyotaka?"

His eye twitched. "Yes?"

"Could you... Could you call me by my given name?"

Ishimaru whirled around to face her with a quizzical expression on his face. He vaguely remembered having this conversation with Oowada when they were dating and that he was hesitant to call Oowada "Mondo" at first. Presently, he knew that his hesitancy was even stronger, that he was even more hesitant to call Ikusaba by her given name than he had been about calling his ex-boyfriend by his, probably because he didn't feel close enough to her, nor did he want to call her so casually. As cruel as it sounded, he truthfully wanted to distance himself from her as much as possible; he wanted to distance himself as far as possible from the woman he was forced to be with, the woman who occasionally gave him eerily bad feelings about her, the woman he did not love.

"I... I'm sorry. I don't think I'm ready to call you by your given name yet. Please give me more time."

The idea of calling her "Mukuro" was unsettling, almost uncomfortable, even. Just the thought of it made the tip of his tongue feel heavy, as if the weight of her given name was pulling it down.

Ikusaba replied quietly, "You're always asking for more time."

"Eh? Well-"

"You're always, ALWAYS asking for more time! You asked for more time before we are to be married. You asked for more time before you join the police force. Now you're asking for more time before you call your fiancée by her name, despite the fact that you started calling Oowada by his only months after you first started dating! It's been months since we became engaged, hasn't it? Isn't it about time? Why do you need more time?"

Ishimaru's quizzical facial expression turned into a perplexed one. There was the knotting feeling in his stomach again, the gut feeling in which he sensed that Ikusaba was dangerous. He just didn't understand why he questioned her so much, as if it was her right to be called by her given name, as if it was wrong not to, as if his actions offended her. Time, time, time! He just didn't understand why she seemed to get so emotional when it involved his choices. He just didn't understand why she seemed so obsessed with him making all the right decisions that appealed to her.

He attempted to reason with her, "My relationship with Oowada was very different from our relationship now, Ikusaba." He noticed the hint of hostility that morphed her expression when he called her by her surname, but he continued on. "We were giddy teenagers who were experiencing our first loves, blindly stepping on new territory without any caution whatsoever. We were willing, if not eager, to move on to the 'next steps' of typical relationships, and so when we realized that partners typically call themselves by their given names or nicknames, we moved right onto calling one another "Mondo" and "Kiyo" without a second thought. It's different now; I'm an adult whose brain has developed more. I now recognize the significance of given names better than I did as a teenager. I don't just want to throw around your true name with careless feelings and without feeling or conviction. I apologize for offending you."

Ikusaba's facial expression visibly hardened, the police officer clearly struggling to hear this point of view. She muttered something under her breath.

"Pardon me?" questioned Ishimaru, "I could not hear that last remark."

"N-No, it's nothing. Then, in exchange for you calling me 'Ikusaba', can I... call you a nickname?"

Ishimaru almost blurted out, "What? That's ridiculous," but managed to say instead, "...What do you have in mind?"

"Um... er..." she fumbled over her words, "Can I call you... Kiyo?"

"NO!" Ishimaru shouted, then covered his mouth with both hands. Ikusaba's eyes widened in shock at the abruptness and speed at which Ishimaru's rejection came. Shit. She was going to wonder why he was so adamant about her not calling him that. He knew he had to save face before she suspected anything.

"I... I apologize, Ikusaba," he said softly, noticing her eyelids flicking downwards. "That nickname... it brings back bitter memories from the past. You understand what I am talking about, right?"

Ikusaba hesitantly nodded. Even she had seen Oowada affectionately calling out to Ishimaru with her exact proposed nickname.

"So... I hope you understand that it pains me to be called that now. But... to make up for it, you can... call me another nickname."

"Then... I'll call you Taka."

* * *

At the sound of someone entering Diamond department, Oowada turned to face whomever it could be. But the moment he saw that it was Ishimaru, he looked down at the ground then turned away from him. Ishimaru watched the head editor walk away from him, then sat at his desk and automatically began working.  

Oowada never looked him in the eye or directly faced him anymore, and once he even relayed a message through Tanaka instead of speaking directly to him. Once, a month ago, he made a colossal mistake when he pasted the wrong dialogue on a whole page, but Oowada hadn't even yelled at him or even acknowledged the error. Oowada plain avoided Ishimaru like he was the plague. He went for lunch everyday to get away from the office. He didn't take Ishimaru with him for errands anymore. He didn't even speak to Ishimaru anymore, unless he was giving work to or receiving work from him.. It broke his heart to see how devastated Oowada was, and it broke his heart even more to know that it was all his fault.

"Um... Ishi?"

Ishimaru looked up from his storyboard at Sonia, who was sitting across from him. She was practically on top of her desk, leaning over towards Ishimaru as much as possible.

"Um," she whispered, "Are you and Oowada all right?"

"No," Ishimaru said a little too loudly, "We're not."

"I knew it!" Hinata jutted in before lowering his voice. "I mean, you guys used to bicker and tease each other to the point of annoyance nonstop. What happened between you two?"

Ishimaru lowered his eyes. "Nothing, we just decided to be more serious, I suppose."

"Uh-huh, yeah, sure. Deciding to draw the line suddenly severed all ties between you two and made you enemies who ignore each other every single day. Deciding to be serious suddenly rendered boss nearly speechless and with a nearly visible aura of despair around him. Uh, yup, sounds about right."

Sonia piped, "Oh, there it is! Hinata's cutting-edge sarcasm!"

Hinata stared at the blonde, then turned back towards Ishimaru. "Seriously though, the atmosphere between you two just seems so tense and... actually, non-existent, almost. You can tell us what happened, y'know."

"Yes, you can! We won't tell a soul!"

"Stop whispering to each other and get to work," snarled Oowada. The three editors jolted in their seats then immediately hunched over their work. Oowada stood to leave the room, but before he did, Ishimaru caught a glimpse of Oowada looking pained. No doubt about it, Oowada had heard their conversation, being only about 2-3 metres away from them. Ishimaru frowned as Oowada's footsteps got softer and softer, then finished up editing Pekoyama's storyboard. He switched the panel filled with giant test tubes with a panel in which M-00N was confronting Kurona. He made a note that M-00N's pun was inappropriate in this grave situation. He suggested focusing on the interior of Kurona's experiment facility during heavy expository dialogue. He filled the pages with red pen marks until he was satisfied with his changes. 

It was at this point that he remembered that he would have to show Oowada his edited storyboard for his approval. He remembered when he tried to show his storyboard to Tanaka, the second-in-command, because he wanted to avoid Oowada. In response, he had been told that storyboards could only be given to Tanaka if Oowada wasn't around. Well, Oowada wasn't around now, just his luck.

Ishimaru had just gathered up the pages in his hands and stood up when Oowada returned to Diamond. Ishimaru cursed himself for jinxing his luck and aborted his plan to submit his storyboard to Tanaka. He exhaled shakily, not wanting to do this, then walked up to Oowada.

"Boss," he muttered, "I completed my task of editing Pekoyama-sensei's storyboard."

Oowada reached out an arm but fumbled in grabbing the storyboard because he was looking at anywhere but Ishimaru. It was only when he accidentally touched Ishimaru's bare hand instead of the papers that he recoiled, finally looked at Ishimaru, then snatched the storyboard away. The editor stood awkwardly as Oowada looked through the storyboard without a sound. Ishimaru normally made small talk with Oowada or bickered with Oowada if he shouted about some stupid editing decision Ishimaru made, but there had been none of that for two months, so Ishimaru was at a loss of what to do except for just... standing there.

Oowada handed the storyboard back, opening then closing his mouth repeatedly as if he had something to say. He spun his chair away from Ishimaru, remained facing the wall for a second, then spun around again to finally look at Ishimaru in the eye.

"...Wanna try takin' on a second mangaka? I'll give you one of mine."

Tanaka, Sonia, and Hinata all whirled around to face the two, obviously surprised that they were talking, even if it was about work.

Ishimaru was confused too, but for a different reason. "A second mangaka?"

"Pekoyama-sensei's manga is comin' to a close soon, right? Less than ten chapters left? There'll be a lot of time before she starts her new serialization, so it'll be best to work with another mangaka during the meantime."

Hearing Oowada speak so formally was jarring and only served as a reminder of just how utterly miserable Oowada must be. Even the three nosy editors stopped eavesdropping, sensing the somber tone in Oowada's speech.

Ishimaru shook the thoughts from his head, not wanting to look like he pitied the head editor right in front of him. He asked, "Ah, so a temporary mangaka?"

"Well, no..." Oowada mumbled, darting his eyes from side to side. "P-Permanently. I... uh... You... You've been producing some... really well done work lately, so I... um... fuck... I thought I'd assign you another mangaka."

Ishimaru stared at his boss, a pink blush creeping up his neck and ears at the unexpected compliment.

Oowada noticed the change in colour of Ishimaru's face. "Don't," he growled under his breath. 

Ishimaru flinched, nodded, and was about to walk away when he realized he didn't have his storyboard. He gingerly took it from Oowada's hands, then felt the need to say something.

"Thank you for the compliment, boss, I will continue to work hard to the best of my abilities." He flashed Oowada a genuine teethy smile.

A strangled noise escaped Oowada's throat as he clamped his hand over his mouth and turned his head to the side. Ishimaru stared at the flustered Oowada before hurriedly retreating to his desk. He too covered his mouth, breathing heavily at what just happened, before sneaking a glance at Oowada. The head editor appeared to be deep in thought still staring to the side, his face a deep red. Ishimaru almost slapped himself. The smile had been involuntary, but it evidently caused Oowada to become flustered and stirred up feelings that the editor-in-chief was trying to bury and get rid of. Once again, Ishimaru was leading Oowada on without any chances of love or reciprocation ever happening. Once again, he was reminded of the futility of their relationship and what a horrible person he was.

* * *

It was almost the end of the workday, and Oowada had called Ishimaru over to his desk to discuss further about assigning the latter a second mangaka. However, as much as Ishimaru was thrilled and prepared to take on another author, nothing could have prepared him for what would be said.

"We're going to have to WHAT?!"

Oowada deadpanned, "We're taking a fucking business trip together."

Ishimaru stumbled backwards, staring in horror at the head editor. What had he just said? A business trip?!

"W-W-What?!" shrieked Ishimaru, "Why?! That is preposterous!"

Oowada sighed through ground teeth. "It's not prepos... prepot... FUCK! Whatever. Does it look like I'm thrilled about this arrangement? I don't want to go on a trip with you either, so shut the fuck up or I'll beat ya into a pulp."

Ishimaru winced at the threat, trying to convince himself that words just came out wrong for Oowada, that Oowada didn't mean it... but he wasn't doing a good job of it. After all, the former biker was seriously mad at him, and even that was an understatement. But something was... off about Oowada's anger. Afterall, after being so depressed he couldn't scream or curse in two months, he was suddenly doing those very two things now.

Before Ishimaru could ponder the head editor's sudden change any further, Oowada added, "I'll be giving you one of my mangakas, Mitarai Ryouta. He's a Hope's Peak alumni, so he's serious business. Don't fuck up." 

"I won't, but... why do we have to go on a business trip?"

Oowada sent an annoyed glare his way. "Mitarai is a veteran mangaka. While this means you'll learn a lot from him, it also means we have to meet him in person for the changing of editors. He's just old-fashioned like that. He lives in the Tohoku region, which is a 5-hour bullet train ride from here, so we're spending the night."

"The..." Ishimaru whispered, "The Tohoku region? W-Where exactly?"

Oowada stared in confusion at the shaken editor. "Shin-Shirakawa."

Ishimaru whimpered, and Oowada stepped back in bewilderment upon hearing the whimper. "Wha... What the hell?"

"N-No, it's nothing..." Damn! He just let such a questionable reaction slip from his throat, how could he be so careless? "A-Anyway! Well, I still do not understand why he cannot simple come here. If he cannot even make the effort, then he is perpetuating the stereotypes of lazy mangakas!"

"Are you an idiot?" Oowada snarled with his usual fervor before realizing and reverting to mumbling. "...Be respectful to the mangaka. We're the ones going to um... honour him."

"Ah, I see! A-And it would take even longer to take a plane because the Tohoku region is relatively obscure, so we are taking the bullet train?"

"Yeah," the head editor grabbed his calendar from his desk. "We'll go this weekend. Can you make arrangements for a one-night business trip with General Affairs?"

"Huh? Me?"

"Yes," Oowada said, "We'll meet and do the formalities of switching editors over lunch with the mangaka, so get bullet train tickets for the early morning, a hotel reservation in the late afternoon, and return train tickets the for the following afternoon. Get to it, will ya?"

"Er, I've never talked to General Affairs before, I'm not sure what to do in this situation-"

"Fuck's sake, yer tellin' me ya don't even know how to reserve a hotel? Ya don't know shit."

Ishimaru glared up at his boss, tempted to bicker with him like they used to now that Oowada was swearing like before, but he knew those days were long gone. He knew that the only thing they could do was pursue the normal boss-subordinate relationship that they should have from the very beginning.

"I will manage," he stated with a determined huff, "I will be right back."

As he left the shoujo manga department, he felt Oowada's eyes burning into the back of his head. He thought he had been able to indirectly dissuade Oowada from worrying or prying further into his strange behavior earlier, but it seemed that Oowada's stares remained fixated on him. Or was Oowada staring at him for a different reason? Ishimaru found himself hoping, praying, even, for the latter.

...

The editor made his way down to the first floor and sought out the General Affairs desk near the main entrance of the building. Two employees were behind the desk, but one was occupied with helping someone, so he approached the other one, a woman with tanned skin and brown hair neatly tied back into a bun.

"Good afternoon!" The employee chimed, "How may I help you?"

"Hello," he responded, "I'm Ishimaru from Diamond, I need to book a business trip for this weekend."

"This weekend?!"

"Yes, I apologize for the short notice."

She waved the apology away with her hand. "Mm, it's fine, it might just be tough to book a trip, depending on the location."

"Shin-Shirakawa, Tohoku region."

"Hm, Shin-Shirakawa usually doesn't get many visitors, but I heard they're having a pretty popular festival that weekend, so I'll check around for hotels."

_Was it time for the festival already?_

Ishimaru blinked, then shook the intruding thought from his head as he waited as the employee clicked away at her mouse, undoubtedly searching for a vacant hotel in Shin-Shirakawa.

_"The fireworks will be starting soon, Kiyotaka."_

An image of vibrant red eyes flashed in his mind. He staggered backwards, clutching his head as the image faded as quickly as it came. The employee looked up at him, flabbergasted.

"What the-?! Jeez, I just told you I found a hotel with plenty of vacant rooms. No need to get so excited over that."

Ishimaru blinked at her. "Eh?" Oh, she had already found a hotel while he was acting strangely. How competent she was, and how he needed to get his shit together.

She blinked at him back, then shook her head. "Anyway, one single room for Saturday night, right?"

"Ah, no, two single rooms. I'm going on the trip with my boss."

"Oh, with Oowada Mondo? All right, no problem!" She typed speedily on the keyboard before she abruptly froze mid-type. She stared wide-eyed at the computer screen before suddenly stepping to the side to stare at Ishimaru. She eyed him up and down, her eyes lingering on his face and shirt collar, then darted her eyes back at the screen, then back at Ishimaru, then brought a hand up to her chest.

"EHHHHH?!" She cried, "Don't tell me... Did you used to be called 'Ishida Kiyotaka'?!"

"W-Wha?! How did you...?" He glanced down at the quivering hand by her chest and saw that her nametag was beside it.

It read "Asahina."

He gasped. "Oh my God! Asahina Aoi-kun?"

"So it _is_ you, Ishida! Oh my gosh! I can't believe this, how have you been? Man, I haven't seen you in forever!"

"Shh!" The other General Affairs employee gestured for Asahina to keep her volume down. She frantically nodded, then continued in a lowered voice.

"Wait," she asked, "You're working on... shoujo manga?"

"Yes," sighed Ishimaru, "It's a long story."

"Actually, I vaguely remember seeing you with Koizumi on your first day. Poor you, you were forced into Diamond, weren't you?"

"Huh? How did you know?"

"Because Oowada was, too."

"Wait, he was?"

"Yeah! Years ago, Chihiro got him an interview here, but for some reason, all of the members of the recruiting committee were ill, so he had the pleasure of being interviewed by... Hagakure."

Ishimaru's facial expression swiftly morphed into one of confusion and disbelief. Asahina merely sighed and shrugged her shoulders at him.

"So," said Ishimaru, "how did it go?"

"Apparently, before Oowada could even introduce himself, Hagakure abruptly asked what he would do with a department that was totally hopeless and was on the verge of completely going out of business and failure. Oowada answered honestly, and before he knew it, he was shipped off to Hope to reform it."

"N-No way, seriously?" Ishimaru laughed, "That's hilarious!"

"It is, right? But somehow he actually pulled through and made the deadbeat rock-bottom Hope department into the bestselling Diamond department! Him, the former biker gang leader!"

"Yes, I mean, it is not that surprising that he was forced into the shoujo manga genre like I was, now that I think about it," said Ishimaru, "considering his personality and background, it really is not a shock that he was not willing to work in shoujo manga in the first place. Knowing this, it really is a wonder that he improved Hope department so much and came to be a renowned girls' manga editor-in-chief."

"Jeez, look at you!" Asahina teased, "Rambling on and on about Oowada just like you did in high school, it's like you like him or something!"

Ishimaru flicked his gaze elsewhere, and Asahina gasped as soon as she saw the downcast editor and covered her mouth with her hands. "I'm so sorry, Ishid- I mean, Ishimaru! I didn't mean to, um, I didn't mean to remind you about the past!"

"No... it's fine."

"Ahh, I know it's not fine!"

"Really," Ishimaru pressed, not wanting to make this a bigger deal than it already was, "I'm fine."

"If you say so..." Asahina returned to her work and finished up Ishimaru's reservations with a few more clicks of her mouse. After a long pause, she turned to him again.

"Hey, Ishimaru," she said, "I know it might be a bad idea to say this, but... you and Oowada, you guys were right for each other! I remember you guys would talk all the time, overcome your arguments and become closer as a result, you guys were just so right for each other. It's a shame you guys didn't work out, in the end."

Ishimaru looked up to face the former swimmer with wide and strained eyes. He stared at her for a few moments before breaking out into a small and sad smile. Asahina froze when she saw the smile, with horrified pain in her facial features as she stared back at the visibly broken editor.

Ishimaru whispered, "You have no idea."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The business trip happens next chapter! This is the first time in a while that everything isn't resolved within one chapter, but I didn't want to leave you guys hanging waiting any more for the seventh chapter, even though you guys deserve a lot better than this half-assed half-chapter that I gave up on by the end.  
> tbh I'm actually really reallyyy starting to dislike this fic... like I wanna see it through to the end but gah... so many stupid plots and inaccurate characterizations and I especially don't like how I write dialogue. I know being negative is bad but ughhh it's been over a year since I started this fic and my writing sense and taste have gotten more mature? ARRGHHH.


	8. Serendipity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ishimaru and Oowada embark on their business trip together. With just the two of them together, Ishimaru decides to make amends with his ex-lover.  
> \-----  
> Alternate summary: Oowada exudes angst until ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying some different things with this chapter: the first part is in Mondo's POV (with a LOT of telling rather than showing, I'm aware, sorry about that! I just didn't find it necessary to show not tell when i've shown this AU's ishimondo's past and their present emotions so many times) and the POV starts way back before the events of the first chapter! If Ishida seems OOC, just pretend Oowada saw him in a better light than Ishida actually was :P  
> ***First page break signals the start of Kiyotaka and Mondo's shared POV (they have the same dream), second page break signals the start of Kiyotaka's POV***

Oowada Mondo had usually been the type to focus on the present, but many situations completely warped his mental state and reasoning, such as being raised in a troubled family, being conditioned into thinking being a real man is acting reckless and hiding weakness behind layers of bad temper, being labeled simultaneously as a bad person and a mere kid in Daiya's shadow by society and the Crazy Diamonds respectively, and being the cause of Daiya's death. He had  _been_ so many things and  _been_ through so much as a child that that was exactly what he became: an emotional and impulsive child. He began dwelling onto the past - clinging onto it for dear yet meaningless and directionless life, but one person alone managed to snap him back into focusing on the present: Ishida Kiyotaka.

Ishida Kiyotaka had originally been the perfect example of the type of person he hated. Uptight, judgmental, and completely unable and unwilling to understand his predicaments. The disciplinary committee member was incapable of seeing things from outside of his own perspective; he accused Oowada of needing to grow a pair, lacking the self-discipline and strength to stay away from trouble, to refrain from resorting to violence, and to resist the temptation of being the troublemaking leader of a good-for-nothing gang that took nothing to run. As if the goody-two-shoes public morals committee member could have understood  _anything_ about him. As if Ishida, who only saw things in black or white, right or wrong, could have understood _anything_ about his life choices or about just what it took to lead the Crazy Diamonds. And so he made the oh-so-perfect honours student understand.

Strangely, when Ishida finally came to comprehend him more as a person, the disciplinary committee member completely changed. Ishida was always, or at least attempted to be, understanding when it came to Oowada's outbursts, impulses, and decisions as a biker gang leader. Oowada hadn't been exposed to such kindness or care ever since Daiya died, and the amount of attention and affection from Ishida stirred something within him, something akin to... love. 

Looking back, Oowada knew he couldn't have helped falling in love with Ishida; it was simply inevitable. There were just so many things to love about him; he was so much more than what Oowada had thought he was: a typical annoying authority figure. Yes, Ishida was a strict disciplinarian with no room for looking over breaches of public morals. Yes, he enforced the lengths of girls' skirts and the obscenity of others' language left and right, but he did so with the sincere hope that he would inspire change. He continued sentencing students to detention and lecturing others' on their conduct despite the barrage of insults and complaints aimed at him because he simply wanted to see his fellow schoolmates improve themselves and aspire to become the best they could be, and he believed they could. He wasn't only concerned with people not upholding order or breaking the rules, he was concerned with people's health and well-being, their safety, their development and growth, their sense of judgment, their values, he just cared so damn much about his fellow students.

Just like Oowada. They both cared so much, but they were constantly misunderstood and berated. Despite how people treated them, they still cared.

Which was why, Oowada justified to himself, he still cared about Ishimaru.

Logically, Oowada should have stopped caring long ago. It took so much effort and determination for Oowada to overcome his internal homophobia and accept his romantic feelings for Ishida. He struggled for a year before he finally started dating Ishida. After nearly two years of love and bliss, Ishida threw that all away and left his life without any notice; without a trace. After eight years of desolation, they finally reunited, only for Ishimaru to lead him on, play with his feelings, and leave again. And yet, Oowada couldn't bring himself to stop loving Ishimaru no matter what. Abandonment and eight years of separation didn't stop his love for Ishimaru, so getting engaged to a woman wouldn't stop him from loving Ishimaru, either, he supposed.

Oowada almost laughed at the cruelty of it all. Just when Ishida had finally been his, somebody had fabricated evidence of him cheating on the disciplinary committee member and so they broke up and went their separate ways for eight years. Just when Ishimaru had finally been his after nearly a decade, in a cruel twist of events, Ishimaru devotes himself to someone else after making Oowada think he loved him. Every time he thought Ishimaru was finally within his grasp, the man would be pulled away by fate. And now, he was on his way to the train station to go on a business trip with Ishimaru, the man who slipped away just when Oowada attained him, the man who never remained with him.

He inhaled, the intake of harsh icy air temporarily snapping him away from his thoughts. Tokyo was colder now that it was nearly Winter, and he shivered at the contact his skin made with frigid gusts of wind. Why was his skin making contact with the cold, you ask? Despite knowing it was cold, Oowada didn't bother to wear anything other than a wifebeater and thin joggers under his trench coat; that's just how he was. As his teeth started chattering, he tossed his duffel bag back and forth between hands in a vain attempt to warm up. 

Oowada exhaled, only to see his breath in swirls of white. Somewhere in the corner of his mind, he was thinking about Ishimaru. Somewhere, he was fantasizing about Ishimaru keeping him company in the cold. He knew they would never work out, not when Ishimaru was engaged, but he couldn't wave the image of Ishimaru wrapping a scarf around Oowada's neck while scolding him about dressing so lightly in the Winter. He couldn't stop imagining Ishimaru's fingers laced between his, their hands holding each other in the warmth of Oowada's coat pocket, talking nonsense about the weather, and getting hot drinks together.

It was no use; it didn't matter if Ishimaru had a fiancée, Oowada couldn't stop himself from being in love with him, and it hurt.

Being a former biker gang leader, his feelings of heartbreak soon transformed into brooding anger, and he surrounded himself with the questions that refused to leave his mind for the past two months. Why did Ishimaru propose to some other chick? Why did he lead someone that he didn't love on? Or did Ishimaru love him afterall? Who was he engaged to? The more he thought about Ishimaru, the angrier he got. He only shifted his attention away from brooding in bitter fury when he spotted the train station in front of him. He made his way to his platform and scanned it for the one man he did not want to see. Regrettably, it wasn't difficult, since there weren't many people in the early morning, and he spotted the editor leaning against a pillar at the centre of the platform.

Oowada's heart skipped a beat at the editor casually leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed. It was unusual for Ishimaru to be acting this laidback and relaxed; he was usually rigid, stiff, and much too concerned about professionalism to act this way. Oowada approached Ishimaru cautiously, wondering if Ishimaru had fallen asleep while waiting for him. He caught sight of Ishimaru's eyelashes, fanned out and daintily resting on his bottom eyelid. He found himself staring at the man sleeping against the pillar, his chest rising and falling slowly with every gentle breath he took. His thoughts took a turn for the worse, and he imagined his hand on that sculpted chest of Ishimaru's, his other hand pressing against the small of the other man's back, earning a choked groan from Ishimaru's throat, their lips sharing the same air before closing the distance between them while closing their eyes-

Ishimaru's eyes snapped open, and Oowada recoiled at the sudden eye contact, letting out a shriek as he took a step back from the editor he had been... observing, for lack of a better word and the will to admit that he had been staring and fantasizing.

Ishimaru stared blankly at the head editor until he registered that he was staring at the head editor. "Ah!" He piped, "Good morning, boss!"

Oowada felt his eye twitch at the upbeat greeting and pivoted away from the editor. He was too sober for this shit.

"Oh..." Oowada heard Ishimaru say behind him, the editor's voice softer and devoid of the enthusiasm from before. Shit, Ishimaru must have realized that he got irritated. Well, served him right. Right...?

"U-Um, the train will arrive in five minutes." Oowada turned his head ever so slightly towards the sound of Ishimaru's voice. He remembered in high school, whenever a conversation between Ishida and another student started to die out, Ishida would attempt to say anything to keep it going, just like he was doing now. 

But connections between the past and the present weren't enough to forgive Ishimaru. His quirks that he still retained from the past didn't excuse the fact that he was a liar who broke his heart and threw him away. Similarities weren't enough to rekindle a ruined relationship. And so he simply replied, "Okay," and said nothing else. 

Honestly, he knew he had been harsh on Ishimaru during the past two months. He refused to acknowledge the editor except when necessary, and during those "necessary" times he mostly only replied with short and apathetic answers. He knew his behaviour now was cruel, especially when he had probably given Ishimaru false hope of reconciliation and forgiveness when he slipped up a few days past by swearing at and bickering playfully with Ishimaru like they had before the... betrothal.

"This train is for Shin-Shirakawa. Please stay behind the yellow line until the train comes to a complete stop."

Oowada spotted Ishimaru stiffening at the announcement like he always did when he was commanded to do something, and frowned. It hurt to look at Ishimaru. It hurt to look at the man act in the manner that he loved, in a manner that reminded him of happier times. It hurt.

The bullet train opened its doors, and Ishimaru scampered into a car. Oowada hesitated to follow, but he eventually did, reasoning that it would be bad to lose the editor he was handing off to one of his authors in a completely foreign region in Japan. Not wanting to sit beside Ishimaru, he sat across from him, ignoring the obvious look of disappointment on the editor's face and the tears at the corners of his eyes. God, how he wanted to apologize, pull Ishimaru into his arms, kiss away those tears, and make everything better again. But he couldn't. Someone else would do those things now: Ishimaru's new fiancée.

By the time the train finally departed, Ishimaru had been lulled to sleep and was leaning his head against the window. Oowada watched Ishimaru's head bob up and down in time to the movements of the train, for lack of other things to do. He wondered why he was even in this situation in the first place. The answer was that he needed to accompany Ishimaru to introduce him to Mitarai Ryouta. But truthfully, he didn't need to, did he? He could have always given one of the other Diamond editors' authors to Ishimaru and have one of them go on this business trip with him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew why he decided to go on a trip with Ishimaru, he just refused to believe it.

He snapped his eyes away from Ishimaru's sleeping figure and closed them, urging his pain to be swept away by sleep and dreams, praying that he wouldn't be haunted by recurring nightmares of their memories together.

* * *

 _Oowada followed Ishida into the latter's dorm room en route to another one of their many study dates. Oowada didn't particularly like studying, which wasn't a surprise if one knew his SHSL talent, but he_ did _particularly like being with his boyfriend, so he managed to endure it for the sake of his loved one._

_The two sat at their usual spots in Ishida's spotless room. Oowada plunked down onto the edge of Ishida's bed, while the disciplinary committee member sat on the chair at his desk, already laying out his school supplies. Of course, the biker gang leader had intended to actually study when he came here. He even brought his homework and study materials! But the sight of his boyfriend hunched over his work, fully concentrated, halted all notions of being productive. Lustful thoughts about doing things completely unrelated to studying filled his mind as his eyes were drawn to the sight of Ishida, unable to think about anything else except for the studious and attractive student sitting across the room._

_Ishida must have felt Oowada staring at him, because he turned and made eye contact with the latter._

_"...Oowada-kun?"_

_"...Yeah?"_

_"Were you looking at me just now?"_

_The furious blush tinting Oowada's face and the nervous sputtering answered his question. Ishida raised an eyebrow._

_"Why were you looking at me, Oowada-kun? Are you not supposed to be studying?"_

_Oowada rubbed the back of his neck. "I... um... fuck-"_

_"Language!"_

_"Fuck, I mean- shit- FUCK! Sorry."_

_Ishida sighed heavily, shaking his head with a palm on his face, then peeked up at Oowada with a playful smile. Ishida knew he should really be reprimanding the biker and writing him up for misconduct, but Oowada was simply too endearing when he was nervous to be mad. He returned to his work, not realizing the effect of his actions on the love-stricken gang leader. Oowada couldn't help but continue to gaze at his boyfriend, eyeing him up and down as less innocent thoughts began to consume his mind. Finally, he couldn't contain the feelings of affection and desire rising up in his body and slid off of the bed. Ishida watched the moving gang leader from the corner of his eye in curiosity, but it wasn't until it was too late that he realized, panicked, that Oowada was closing in on him. He yelped as Oowada bent over, reached out his arms, and picked the disciplinary committee member up._

_"W-W-What are you doing?!" Ishida shrieked, flailing in vain as Oowada walked back towards the bed with Ishida in his arms._

_"Sh... Shut the fuck up," replied Oowada eloquently, ignoring Ishida's protests against his use of foul language._

_"Put me down this instance, Oowada Mondo!"_

_"Y'know what? Fine, I fuckin' will, ya asked for it!" Oowada climbed onto the centre of the bed with Ishida in tow, then sat down, causing Ishida to plop down right into his lap._

_Ishida squealed in a mixture of confusion and horror and squirmed, attempting to get out of Oowada's lap. However, the gang leader saw what his boyfriend was trying to do, and quickly wrapped his arms around Ishida in a trapping embrace._

_Ishida stammered, "This is outrageous! Release me at once, Oowada-kun, I need to study!"_

_The biker rolled his eyes. "Chill the fu- Chill out, we have a long weekend, you have plenty of time to study."_

_"That is precisely why I need to study! Long weekends are extremely rare at Hope's Peak, so I need to take advantage of the extra break from classes to study even more than usual!"_

_"But I... um..." Oowada tightened his embrace, then continued stuttering, "DAMMIT! I just... I just want to hold you, fuck! Can't I do that, kyoudai?" He brought a fist over his head to vent out pent-up embarrassment, but realizing that the only things close enough for him to punch were the bed or Ishida, he exhaled deeply and snaked the arm around Ishida's waist again, triggering the feeling of butterflies in the disciplinarian's stomach._

_The disciplinary committee member tensed up, stunned at Oowada's sudden and loud confession. It was more of a statement, no, a command, than a confession knowing Oowada, but Ishida still couldn't help but find it adorable. So he relented, and the couple stayed in their positions in a comfortable silence with their bodies pressed against each other, warm and passionate._

_"Oowada-kun?" Ishida finally said after a while._

_"What?" came the reply, muffled by Ishida's hair._

_"You called me 'kyoudai' earlier, did you not? Is it not bizarre, if not outright inappropriate, for boyfriends to call each other their brothers?"_

_"F-Fuck! Don't make it sound gross like that!" Oowada paused as if seriously considering what Ishida just said. "Well, I guess yer right, sorry, old habits die hard."_

_Ishida nodded in understanding, feeling the tips of his hair brushing against Oowada's chin. The two of them had been soul brothers before realising their feelings for one another had shifted into feelings of romantic love, so it was not unusual for either one of them to accidentally slip into their old habits of calling each other their brother._

_Oowada added, "Well... what do lovers usually call each other?"_

_"Lovers refer to one another using pet names such as babe, honey, or sweetheart, by a nickname, and/or by their given names!" Ishida bellowed immediately._

_"You sure seem like ya know yer shit."_

_Ishida beamed. "Ha ha ha! Of course I do! I studied!"_

_Oowada blinked. "You... studied."_

_"Yes! Now that I am in a relationship, I must study the aspects of being a boyfriend and the necessities of being a couple! I have been studying throughout the several months we have been together, Oowada-kun!"_

_"Of course you have," Oowada muttered, narrowly dodging being swatted in the face by Ishida's excited arm waves. "Why the hell am I even surprised?"_

_"I assure you, Oowada-kun, I am perfectly knowledgeable in the studies of relationships now! Go on! Ask me anything!"_

_"Anythin'?"_

_"Anything!"_

_"...You wanna start calling me by my given name?"_

_Ishida spun around to face Oowada incredulously, but realizing that his face was merely centimetres away from Oowada, and his lips merely centimetres away from Oowada's, he spun to face away from his boyfriend again, face as red as tomato and body as frozen as ice._

_"I..." Ishida stammered, "No, I am not sure about that. I think that would be impolite."_

_"Hah? Are ya fucking kiddin' me? You said so yourself that couples call each other by their given names but you don't wanna do it for me? All that studyin' for nothin'."_

_"N-No! I am not the type to acquire knowledge but then never utilize it... M... Mon...do..."_

_"Huh?" Oowada said, a grin creeping on his face, "I couldn't hear you." Ishida blushed in indignation._

_"Your ears are no farther than ten centimetres away from my mouth! I advise you to stop playing around with me, you liar of a delinquent!"_

_"And I 'advise you' to speak up, bitch."_

_"Ngh!" Ishida fumed in embarrassment. This was utterly humiliating! How shameful! He was being looked down upon by Oowada; he was being teased! But..._

_"M... M-M-M.... Mondo... kun..."_

_The two males stayed silent in shock for a few seconds, then Ishida brought his hands up to cover his red face and groaned._

_"Why is this so embarrassing?" Ishida complained, "I should have just studied, afterall."_

_"Huh?! You sayin' ya'd rather be doin' school shit than be with me? Fine, fucker," Oowada let go of Ishida, "get the fuck out, then."_

_Ishida froze, mentally screaming at himself. This was his chance at freedom! He could go back to studying now! Instead, he sat there dumbly. Why wasn't he moving an inch? Why wasn't his body listening to his commands?!_

_A wicked idea crossed his mind that he longed to shake from his head, but he resigned to it._

_"M-Mondo-kun, do you know what my stance on knowledge is?"_

_Oowada stared blankly at Ishida. "Uh, what? Nope."_

_"I believe that when one learns something, one should share that knowledge with others and educate them so that they too may learn what one learned and use that knowledge to their advantage!"_

_"Yeah, 'thought you'd say somethin' like that..."_

_"Therefore, I will only leave if you apply the facts I have taught you... and call me by my given name!"_

_"...Huh? Seriously? You're a goddamned idiot!"_

_"Ngh!"_ _Ishida started sulking, but his pouts were cut short by Oowada tightening his arms around him._

_The gang leader murmured, "If you wanted me t' call you by yer first name, you shoulda just told me."_

_The disciplinary committee member flushed and buried his face into Oowada's arms in embarrassment. Of course! Many of his friends had informed him numerable times that he should simply ask for things, particularly help, instead of indirectly hinting that he needed them. So that was yet another key to friendship that he failed to remember._

_Oowada continued, "W-Well, here I go... Ki... Kiy..."_

_"Yes? Go on, M...Mondo!"_

_"Ki... Kiiiii... Kyoudai."_

_Ishida raised his head and stared in front of him in bewilderment._

_"Oowada Mondo, you curved your way out of calling me 'Kiyotaka' by calling me 'kyoudai'! That is unacceptable!"_

_"'M sorry! It's just... dammit! It's kinda fuckin' hard to call ya 'Kiyotaka'!"_

_"And why is that? Is 'Kiyotaka' too hard for you to pronounce, Mr. Biker Delinquent?"_

_"Shaddup. If that were th' case, I wouldn't be able to say 'Enoshima' or 'Kirigiri'." Oowada pulled back his arms to pick Ishida up again, spin the disciplinarian around, and drop him back in his lap so that Ishida was facing him._

_"N-No!" Ishida protested, "This position is even more embarrassing than the last one!"_

_Oowada merely smirked. "Payback for mocking me, Mr. Hall Monitor." He gently kissed Ishida's tears away, and Ishida stiffened every time the biker's lips made contact with his face in pleasure. Oowada added, "You said people in relationships also call each other by nicknames... can I do that?"_

_This time, Ishida stiffened for a different reason. He absolutely detested nicknames, as they shortened the wonderful name his parents gave him. Not to mention that his previously assigned nicknames mainly consisted of negatives insults, tarnishing the alleged endearment of nicknames._

_But it was Mondo that was asking, and Mondo, against all odds, was special to him. And so he nodded in agreement._

_"Then... I'll call you Kiyo."_

* * *

"Shit!" Oowada exclaimed, "I think we're lost."

Ishimaru and Oowada had arrived at their destination a few hours ago, met with Mitarai Ryouta at the station, and had proceeded with the editor transferal as planned. The meeting and transferal with Mitarai Ryouta went smoothly, if not a bit too smoothly. Oowada was exceptionally sweet throughout the affair, paying attention to Mitarai the whole time and tending to all his questions and suggestions. Granted, Ishimaru could justify Oowada's sickly kind behavior with the fact that Mitarai was his editor until the editor transferal, if it weren't for the fact that Oowada kept pointedly ignoring Ishimaru.

The meeting was over though, and Ishimaru pushed his feelings to the back of his mind. He and Oowada had to focus on their present task at hand: they had to find their hotel.

"Are you sure you are up for this, boss?" Ishimaru asked as they stopped after making a wrong turn for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"Of course I am," the head editor snapped and resumed walking, "I can drive through the streets of Tokyo with my eyes closed, directions aren't a problem."

"Yes, but that is Tokyo, which is hours away from here, just like the hotel will be if you keep navigating so poorly."

"Fuck you."

Ishimaru resisted the terrible urge to reply, "Go ahead," and instead responded, "Can't you just input the directions to the hotel on your phone?"

"I did, but I don't think there's much signal here, the GPS app keeps fucking up and rerouting."

"Really?" He glanced at the abundance of people in the area. "Perhaps the overwhelming number of people are to blame? They may be the cause of a weak signal."

"That's true. Why're there so many people anyway? I feel like a sardine; even Tokyo isn't this crowded in the evening."

"Ah, Asahina at General Affairs mentioned something about a festival when I went to book a hotel."

"Ugh, and you only mention this now? Of all times, we had to book a business trip during a festival? How're we ever going to get to th' hotel with only tourists and a shitty signal around?"

"Erm, perhaps I can help," Ishimaru said, pointing to himself shakily.

"You?" Oowada bit back a scoff. "How would you help?"

"Ah, well," Ishimaru fidgeted, "I lived here after high school."

Oowada's eyes widened, and the head editor was rendered shock still in the middle of bumbling tourists. "...Oh," he finally managed to utter.

"Um, yes, so, what's the name of the hotel?" He peeked at Oowada's phone, and lit up. "Ah, that hotel! It's right this way!" Ishimaru pointed dramatically at the exact opposite direction they had been going moments before.

"Man, what a pain," Oowada muttered, "if we're going that way anyway, we might as well check out this festival that's goin' on right now."

Ishimaru felt his phone vibrate in his pocket at that moment. "That's a good idea, excuse me." He fished his smartphone out of his pocket and turned on the screen to see that he was getting a call from Ikusaba. Great, a phone call from the woman whose name means "corpse" would be loads of fun. His finger hovered over his phone in hesitance before he finally slid to accept the call.

He brought the phone to his ear to hear. "Good evening, Taka," said Ikusaba.

The editor flinched at the nickname, thankful that Ikusaba could not see him do so. He could practically see her facial expression darkening at his flinching; she seemed to be incapable of accepting that Ishimaru did not like conforming to Ikusaba's ideals of affection and romance. 

"Good evening," Ishimaru replied curtly, walking briskly as he made his way downtown.

 _"_ How was your day?"

"Eventful. I am on a business trip with my boss; I was just assigned a second mangaka!"

"Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Um, yes..." The call was dying faster than his will to talk to her.

"...Taka-" Was that a _giggle_ he heard from her? "You're terrible at phone calls."

"I don't want to hear that from you."

Ishimaru could hear Ikusaba flinching. "You're... quite different from how you were in high school," she managed, "You were never this... mean, Taka."

"We graduated eight years ago, Ikusaba," Ishimaru put heavy emphasis on her last name, satisfied at the audible recoil at his insistence on calling her by her surname. "I've changed drastically, so you may need to let go of all notions of my character if you still think I'm a naive and gung-ho disciplinarian." Ishimaru realized he was dealing a low blow, since their senses of discipline were almost the only connection the two of them shared.

"Ah, w-well, it's... okay if you've changed, I mean, I have to."

"I am aware, this is why I proposed a period of time before our marriage to get to know each other's changed selves."

"Oh, I never thought of like that. You've always been one to think about the welfare of others."

Ishimaru exhaled deeply. This conversation was going nowhere, only showing how compliant and easy to fool Ikusaba Mukuro was, a result of her twisted affections for her sister back in high school. He flinched at that past statement; had he really become that bitter and cruel-minded as an adult?

He needed to take this phone call - this opportunity - to ask about something that had been nagging at his mind ever since the marriage interview. 

Why was Ikusaba so interested and joyful about her engagement ring? Why was Ikusaba so intent on marrying him? Why were Ikusaba's affections directed at him?

He was about to ask all of these questions to Ikusaba when at that moment, he spotted the hotel he and Oowada were to be staying at that night a block ahead of him. "Excuse me, Ikusaba," he said hastily, and looked up to face Oowada. "Hey, boss, there's our hotel-"

He froze in place as he realized he was talking to empty space.

"Boss?" Ishimaru whispered as he whirled around in an effort to locate the head editor. "Boss?!" he bellowed louder, only to be answered with nothing.

"I'm sorry, Ikusaba," he practically shouted into his phone, "I'm going to have to call you back!"

He cut Ikusaba's protests short by ending the call and shoving his phone into his pocket, his thoughts racing through his head. How long ago had he lost Oowada? Fuck, Oowada was completely hopeless with directions; who knew where he could be and if he could find his way without Ishimaru?  

"Oowada!" He shouted, ignoring the vibrations from his phone and the questioning glances from the strangers at the festival. "Oowada, where are you?" He paced through the crowd the way he came, scanning the crowd for a certain mop of black hair, a certain pair of lilac eyes framed with eyeliner. He tried again. "Oowada Mondo!"

"Kiyotaka?"

Ishimaru skidded to a stop and whirled around at the sound of a female voice, all desperation to find Oowada forgotten and vanished.

He knew that voice.

He heard it again. "Kiyotaka, is that you?"

A woman stepped into his field of view, her red eyes, intense in colour despite the years of wrinkles surrounding them, staring right at him. Ishimaru forgot how to breathe, the air being caught in his throat as he tried to look at anything except those probing eyes: the concealer hiding what he knew to be dark circles under her eyes, the ebony hair framing her aged face, the thin line her mouth was pursed into. The line widened into a smile, revealing teeth stained with coffee, and when Ishimaru forced himself to finally look into her eyes, the smile didn't quite reach them.

"Kiyotaka,  _honey,_ " the woman voiced, sweeping her hair behind her ear with a shaky hand, "what are you doing here?"

Fear crawled its way up Ishimaru's stomach and seeped into every inch of his body, his eyebrows knit over widened eyes in dread. He swallowed in vain to satiate his parched throat, all moisture having fled at the first sound of the woman's voice. He trembled, and opened his mouth to speak before any more air could hitch in his throat.

"Mother." He tried desperately to keep the snarl out of his tremor of a voice. 

His mother crossed his arms and shifted her weight from one leg to another. "I believed I asked you a question, Kiyotaka. What are you doing here?"

Ishimaru knew from her actions that she was getting impatient; she was eager to rid him of her. He replied, "I'm here on a business trip, mother. It is an uncanny coincidence that I met you here."

"It is, isn't it? I'm glad we met," she said with a sickly sweet coo in her voice, as if honey were dripping from her words to drown him, suffocate him. "So, you're here for a literature rendezvous, yes?"

His body screamed at the red flag flashing before his eyes, but his mind was too muddled with unpleasant memories and discomfort to back down. "No, Mother, I'm here for my work as a shoujo manga editor." 

The moment the words left his mouth, even before his mother's eyes flashed to glare up at him, he knew he made a mistake. Why hadn't he learned from his father's reaction to his new job?

"Shoujo manga?" His mother asked incredulously. "You're working on girls' manga?"

"It wasn't my choice!" Ishimaru tried justifying, frantically, attempting to remedy his error, "There was a mistake in the company, and I-"

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is an announcement from the festival committee," a voice broke out overhead, "The fireworks will be commencing shortly."

The people around them stopped browsing vendor stalls and turned to face the same direction, chatting animatedly about the famous fireworks. Amidst the cheer and anticipation, however, Ishimaru's mother looked at her son in subdued fury, her jaw tight and her hands clenching her arms as she crossed them.

"After all I did to support you while you were at college, after everything I did for you after the divorce," she seethed, "You turn around and betray all of that by getting into girls' comics?"

The first firework, tinted pink, launched and burst in the night sky, bathing Ishimaru's mother in crimson light, heightening her enraged expression.

"You know I couldn't handle the debt, Kiyotaka, you know that's why I left. And yet you're encouraging Takaaki's stupid father's debts by having an utterly useless profession? A waste of time?"

Several other fireworks lit up the sky as Ishimaru willed his tears away, blinking rapidly at the stupid prickle at the corners of his eyes.

"I can't believe you," his mother spat, "you ungrateful, useless-"

"Ishimaru!"

Both Ishimarus turned to see Oowada marching towards them, looking angrier than Ishimaru had ever seen him before. He pushed his way through the ogling crowd and stopped between Ishimaru and his mother.

"I won't have you harassing my employee like that," the head editor growled at the woman, "if you'll excuse us, we'll be on our way." Oowada grabbed Ishimaru's wrist and gave it one protective squeeze before pulling him away from his mother. 

"How dare you?! I'm not finished with him yet!" Ishimaru's mother screeched at the retreating editors. "Ishimaru Kiyotaka, you are not my-"

The sound of a crackling firecracker rendered her final words inaudible, but Ishimaru knew what they were.  _You are not my son._

He let Oowada drag him through the crowds toward their hotel, and turned to watch the fireworks as they left the festival. In any other circumstance, this would be a dream come true, Oowada holding him as they walked through a festival together as fireworks lit up the night sky.

But right now, nothing else was on his mind, except an echo of a nightmare.

_You are not my son._

* * *

At one point in his high school career, one of his friends in the 78th Class, Naegi Makoto, had convinced Ishida to start watching television so that he could learn how to converse with others for long periods of time. Word of the Super High School Level Disciplinary Committee Member, who only ever studied and stuck to the rules, watching anime got out, and after a series of events, he received a request from somebody to watch shoujo anime. Eager to learn another conversation topic, Ishida started watching one about an office romance, but could only stare at the screen dumbly, furrowing his eyebrows at the interactions between the main love interests. Among other questions (Why are the cherry blossom trees always losing their leaves dramatically? Why is the lighting so pink? Why is this romance so cheesy and shallow?), Ishida's main concern was that there were too many coincidences in shoujo animes. The main girl just happened to catch the attention of the main boy, the most popular male in the office, by doing something silly. The main love interests just happened to be alone in a boardroom when the doors were locked. The main love interests just happened to find shelter under the same overhang during a rainstorm. 

Ishida had never guessed that years later, he would be wishing for a coincidence straight out of a shoujo anime as a shoujo manga editor.

Oowada and Ishimaru, after what seemed like ages of stumbling around lost and Ishimaru crying, finally found their hotel and were lining up at the reception desk. Ishimaru vaguely remembered the office romance anime he had watched in high school had a scene in which the main love interests were forced to share a hotel room with a lone double bed on a business trip together after General Affairs had made the wrong arrangements. Ishimaru peeked up at his head editor, then turned to give his best disciplinary-committee-member stare to the receptionist, hoping that his glare would somehow mentally coerce the receptionist and fate itself to reveal that he and Oowada would have to share a bed in a room together, like it had coerced rowdy students into actually showing up at detention in high school.

The image of Ikusaba staring gleefully at her engagement ring conjured in his mind, and he felt guilty for betraying her with his feelings. Even if he had been blackmailed into doing so, he had still promised his love and life to her, and she undoubtedly loved and trusted Ishimaru with all her heart, though he didn't know why. He knew it was wrong to yearn for Oowada after what he did, but he finally realized he couldn't control his feelings and that he loved his first love all along.

Even now, no, especially now, he craved Oowada's attentive comfort.

"Two guests from Marukawa Shoten, yes?"

Ishimaru realized with a jolt that he and Oowada had reached the front of the line. He fixed a stare at the receptionist again, praying to the god of hard work repayment for a mishap with General Affairs, for a shoujo anime coincidence that would bring the two of them closer again.

"Yeah," said Oowada, snapping Ishimaru's eyes away from the slightly frightened receptionist.

"Er," stammered the receptionist, "Your rooms-"

Ishimaru almost,  _almost_ took a step back and collided with the bellboy behind him as his hopes were dashed to the ground. Were those plural "rooms" the receptionist had just mentioned?

"Your rooms are ready for you. You," he handed a key card to Oowada, "are in room 603, while you," he handed a second card to Ishimaru, "are in room 604. Have a wonderful stay."

Ishimaru took his key grimly. Of course they had separate rooms. Shoujo coincidences only happened in, well, shoujos. He edited shoujo mangas, for goodness' sake, he should have known this. And yet he stupidly hoped for a serendipity to happen that would bring him and Oowada closer. 

It's not like he deserved a coincidence, though. He had hurt Oowada badly, and he was willing to hurt Ikusaba, too.

"We don't have anything to do until we leave tomorrow," Oowada said as they made their way to their rooms, "so get dinner from room service and get some rest. Be up by seven tomorrow."

"Got it," responded Ishimaru, spotting room 604 off to his right. He saw Oowada swipe his key into the card reader, and knew he had to act fast before Oowada retired for the night and got out of his reach.

"Um, Oowada!" Ishimaru cringed. That was elegant. At least it did the job though, as Oowada paused to turn and look at him. Ishimaru cleared his throat, and tried again (talking evidently still was not one of his stronger suits.) "I just wanted to thank you."

"Thank me?" Puzzled, Oowada raised an eyebrow with his finger for emphasis. "For what?"

"For getting between my mother and me. You really saved me, boss," clarified Ishimaru with a smile."

A shadow passed over Oowada's face. "It was nothing. I couldn't let her-" he stopped himself, then sighed. "Good night, Ishimaru." He scampered into his room and shut the door.

Ishimaru stood there, confused and dejected, looking at the door that had essentially slammed in his face. He turned to swipe his own key card to unlock his door, sullenly noting that nothing had gone his way today. Who did he think he was kidding when he thought a one-night trip with his boss could become more than a business trip? That Oowada would start talking to him more? And as if the world was laughing at him for his unmet expectations, he had run into his mother only to be disowned by her. 

He tried to push his thoughts to the back of his mind, but the events of today repeated in his mind like a loop of his failures as he unpacked, ordered dinner, and showered. He had a habit of dwelling on bad memories; it was his way of punishing himself for screwing up.

He had just changed into a white T-shirt and grey joggers when there was a knock on the door. Patting his damp hair with a towel with one hand and holding his wallet in the other, he strode over and opened his door.

He wasn't surprised to see a bellboy on the other side of the door when he opened it. What he  _was_ surprised by was the fact that the bellboy was carrying two covered plates.

"Room service!" piped the bellboy. He handed both plates to Ishimaru, who took them without thinking. "That will be $20.16!"

Ishimaru blinked at the plates in his hands, then decided to voice his concerns before it was too late. "Um, two plates?" Boy, he sure was speaking well today.

"Yes, sir, one for you and one for the man with you in the lobby."

"Oh dear, I'm sorry, there's been some kind of-"

"Oh no, please don't be embarrassed about it." Ishimaru squinted in suspicion: he didn't like the direction the oblivious bellboy was taking this conversation. The bellboy added, "I think it's fantastic how more and more homosexuals are being honest about their feelings and being in love with who they love. I really do!"

Ishimaru nearly dropped the plates during his coughing fit. The bellboy just smiled up at him, failing to register that anything was amiss. The editor gawked at him. Ishimaru was about to correct him and return one of the plates, when a wicked idea sprouted in his head.

He hadn't been able to score a room with Oowada, but perhaps that wasn't meant to be. Perhaps his "shoujo anime coincidence" came in the form of a second dinner plate.

* * *

 

Ishimaru's right fist hovered over Room 603's door, clenched so hard the knuckles were white. He was so sure about his decision just seconds ago, when he had confidently strode the several steps through the hallway it took to reach the room next door. The bellboy's error was his chance - his shoujo coincidence - to patch things up with Oowada, right? They'd talk over dinner, make amends, and go back to their boss-subordinate friendly relationship, right?

Except when he actually stood in front of the door, he realized the vast amount of holes in his logic and things that could go wrong. What if Oowada had already ordered dinner, or worse, was eating at that very moment? What if Oowada refused to open the door for him? What if Oowada refused the plate, refused to talk to Ishimaru, and/or refused his very existence? He felt sweat beading along his forehead, so he brought the hand that was supposed to knock at Oowada's door to wipe the moisture off, then brought it down to his side. He couldn't do it afterall. He couldn't knock, he couldn't go through with his plan, he just couldn't.

But could he leave everything like this? Could he let his good bond with Oowada go to waste because he didn't have the balls to take a risk? Because he was afraid of rejection? He took a deep breath and made up his mind. He wouldn't know for sure whether Oowada would accept him or reject him if he never tried. He rapped his knuckles on the door twice. He heard the sound of fabric shifting, like Oowada had just gotten off of the bed, and braced himself as the sound of footsteps became louder and louder.

The door swiftly swung open, and Ishimaru came face-to-face with an unamused Oowada, still clad in his coat.

"...What are you doing here?"

Ishimaru winced as memories of his encounter with his mother came flooding back through his mind. She had used those very words to greet him, and it stung to hear them come out from Oowada's mouth just as nonchalantly and condescendingly as they had from his mother. He inhaled deeply to calm himself, and shrugged. "Have you had dinner?"

"No," Oowada said warily as he eyed the two plates balancing in Ishimaru's left hand, "I'm... 'M not hungry." Oowada's stomach betrayed his words, however, as a growling noise emerged from it. 

"Don't lie to yourself, boss," Ishimaru coaxed, "I had a second plate delivered to me accidentally, you should take it."

Oowada's eyes darted from the plate to Ishimaru, his nostrils flaring at the heavenly scent of bacon cheeseburgers and fries wafting through the too-clean hotel air. Oowada had always been a simple man, however, and he caved in to his hunger, gingerly snatching a plate away from Ishimaru.

"...Thanks," mumbled Oowada, as he reached for the door handle. Panic overtook Ishimaru as he realized that, in his eagerness to convince Oowada to accept the food, he had forgotten to also convince Oowada to invite him in. Ishimaru's eyes flickered over to the door handle that Oowada had now grasped and scrunched shut in concentration. He'd have to think fast, or lose this chance completely. But thinking fast wasn't programmed into Ishimaru's system; he mulled over every possibility for too long and thought too hard about the outcomes and consequences. No, he would have to blurt out the first thing that came into his mind.

And so he did. "I lived with my mother here in Shin-Shirakawa while I attended university."

The door came to a complete stop along with Oowada, who froze at the bombshell of a statement, staring at Ishimaru with his mouth agape.

He fiddled with the plate Oowada hadn't taken between his hands as he continued, "After the divorce, since the courts favour women, my mother won custody over me. She took me with her, and we moved here."

His story about his mother must have piqued Oowada's interest, especially having heard about her and having met her, because he opened the door slightly and took a step back. Ishimaru gladly took this as an invitation, mentally pumping his fist in celebration that his half-assed improvised plan had worked, and stepped inside. As Oowada closed and locked the door, he asked, "Why did your parents get a divorce?"

This was an easy one. "Money, really," Ishimaru said as he took his shoes off, "I told you that the Ishida family had been in debt for generations, yes?" Oowada nodded. "My mother had grown tired of the debts and my father seemingly failing to make progress about said debts." He took a seat at a chair in the corner of the room, while Oowada sat on the edge of the bed.

"It wasn't like I hadn't seen it coming," Ishimaru continued, "I was practically choking on the tension between them ever since high school. I was a stupid kid, and I thought that their disagreements were temporary." He shook his head, smiling sadly. "Looking back, I cannot fathom how moronic I was to have thought that."

Oowada leaned forward, his interest piqued, causing the mattress to creak in protest. Ishimaru's eyes flicked to the side rapidly, trying not to think of creaking mattresses but licking his lips in spite of his efforts. 

The head editor opened and closed his mouth, as if thinking of what to say, before deciding. "That woman who was picking a fight with you at the festival... that was your mother, right?"

Ishimaru's eyes met Oowada's, and he gave a curt nod. 

"Honestly, I thought I saw 'er on the train we were on," admitted Oowada, "but I didn't think you'd actually see her and be confronted by her an' shit. What the fuck is even her problem?"

Ishimaru grimaced, scrunching his eyes half-shut as he replied, "She was always a traditional woman. Overly so, probably."

"Huh?" Ishimaru attempted to stifle a giggle at Oowada's thoughtful response. He had always needed some explanation.

"She's very conservative: her ideals were rules in the household. If something wasn't going the way she wanted it, she would express it, usually by taking her anger out on me."

"Wha-"

"Yes," muttered Ishimaru painfully, "she was controlling and abusive, but nobody ever realized it because she seemed like the perfect and nice mother on the outside. I didn't even realize it until university."

"Ishimaru..."

"In fact, my father was the only one who accepted my relationship with you back in high school. She may have acted kind to you, but she was furious that her son was homosexual. Do you remember how I came to school with bruises occasionally, despite bullies having stopped touching me long before then?"

"Oh shit."

"Yeah, shit." Ishimaru cracked a small smile. "So when she saw me today and realized I got a job even more 'pathetic' than a literature editor in her eyes recently, well, shit went down."

"Oh god, you're smiling. You're so fucked up."

"I take offense to that!" Despite his words, Ishimaru was giddy with happiness that Oowada had started speaking comfortably with him again, swearing included. He playfully raised his left hand in the air and gracefully flipped the middle finger up, wanting to prolong this moment forever. He loved talking to Oowada.

"Whoa there, hall monitor," Oowada scoffed, guffawing at the bird directed at him, "You wouldn't want to be written up for that......"

Oowada's voice trailed off into silence, and Ishimaru slowly lowered his hand, worry and dread crawling up his body. Oowada must have caught himself treating Ishimaru as a friend and put a stop to it.

"Your hand."

Ishimaru blinked at the random statement from Oowada. "What?"

Oowada swallowed, visibly conflicted and grimacing. "Your hand. You're not wearing the ring."

Ishimaru's eyes widened, and he looked down at his splayed and slender fingers. He peeked up at Oowada, who was looking away.

Oowada had noticed. And he was clearly thrilled about the absence of a ring on his finger. Something consumed Ishimaru at that moment, and he stood up. The look in Oowada's eyes immediately shifted from turmoil to clarity as Ishimaru trudged towards him.

He turned to look the editor in the eye as Ishimaru stopped directly in front of the head editor, inches away from him. He propped his right knee on the bed outside of Oowada's legs, and leaned forward to rest his hands on Oowada's shoulders. 

Oowada trembled slightly, but whether it was out of desire, fear, or anger, Ishimaru didn't know. He only knew that Oowada had  _feelings_ for him, and he very much planned on reciprocating them. He felt Oowada shakily draw in the air between their mouths before he closed the distance between their lips.

He didn't let the outburst of protest from Oowada stop him. The head editor's lips were rough, chapped, but warm, and Ishimaru tilted his head to the right to press his lips harder onto Oowada's. He curled his fingers, his fingertips digging into Oowada's shoulders as he scrunched his eyes shut in pleasure.

The kiss only lasted a second before Ishimaru felt an excruciating pain in his left cheek and was falling to the floor. He met the carpeted ground with a thud, the impact knocking the air out of his lungs. He looked up from the floor to see Oowada standing in front of him, breathing heavily, his arm outstretched in front of him and his hand clenched into a fist.

"What the _fuck_ is wrong with you, you..." Oowada's words trailed off into heavy breathing as he caught sight of Ishimaru on the floor. His stance stiffened as he held his breath, his earlier rage replaced by horror. "Shit, Ishimaru..."

It was as if sense had literally been knocked into him, for Ishimaru hastily pushed himself off of the ground. "I apologize, boss," he said hurriedly, speeding towards the door, "I do not know what came over me."

"Hey, wait." Ishimaru ignored the call and opened the door, prompting Oowada to yell in frustration. "Ishimaru, hey, wait!" 

The editor slammed the door behind him and briskly unlocked his door despite his shaking hands and the sound of Oowada's door opening again. "You fucking asshole, I said-!" 

The echo of Ishimaru's door slamming in the corridors drowned out the rest of Oowada's voice. Ishimaru stumbled over to his bed as the raps on his door and the shouts from Oowada sounded from beyond his room. His legs became gelatinous and he fumbled down onto the floor, even without being punched, and leaned his back against the edge of his bed.

"What the fuck is wrong with me," he sobbed as he brought his trembling palm to his face, feeling hot tears roll down his hand. How disgusting and depraved of him to forget his place; he was Oowada Mondo's subordinate and someone's fiancée. And yet he had thrown away both of these set relationships because he had been swayed by something like physical desire. He had taken advantage of Oowada's remaining feelings and used him for his personal gain. 

He deserved that punch. He deserved everything.

He sat hiccuping and letting his tears flow for some time before eyeing his suitcase through his fingers. He forced himself to get off of the floor and drag his feet towards the suitcase. 

He needed to leave, he resolved as he started packing the few things he had taken out of it. He couldn't endure a train ride to Tokyo with Oowada now that he had fucked everything up. No, he needed to end things entirely. It was high time that he stopped taking advantage of Oowada, that he stopped preventing Oowada from moving on from him. He closed his suitcase and set it on the floor next to his bed, his thoughts racing as he made the bed then sat back at the edge of his bed with the packed bag by his side, firmly making his decision. Ikusaba and Oda would be happy, wouldn't they, if Ishimaru quit working at Marukawa? 

"What...?"

Ishimaru jumped at Oowada's unnoticed presence behind him. He whipped around to see at the head editor, who had taken off his coat.

"W-What," stammered Ishimaru, "what are you doing here? No, that isn't right, how did you-"

"I told the receptionist that my coworker lost his room key and bought a key to this room."

"You WHAT? Of all the-"

"But more importantly," Oowada heaved, eyeing the suitcase and made bed in the room, "you're leaving...?"

Ishimaru furrowed his brows, and nodded solemnly. "I have been saying this from the very moment you revealed to me that you could not forget about me for the past eight years, all those months ago," stated Ishimaru as a single tear rolled down his cheek, "that we can't do this."

"Wait, Ishi-"

"No, you wait, boss." Ishimaru was trembling now, wrapping his arms around his knees and bringing them up against his chest. "Didn't I tell you from the very beginning that we couldn't let our feelings reign our decisions? I did just that, and look what happened as a result." He pointed at the blooming bruise on his face. "Please don't chase after me anymore, and I won't do anything more to you either, because this needs to end."

"What the hell are you talking about? I don't get anythin' you're saying!"

Ishimaru straightened his posture and continued to look at the floor in front of him. "I'm resigning, Oowada."

"What?"

"Do not worry, I'll have my formal letter of resignation completed by tomorrow as required by the official protocol. I just thought I'd let you know in advance-"

"No."

Now it was Ishimaru's turn to ask the questions. "What...?"

"No, no," Oowada growled, "you don't get to kiss me then just fucking walk out of my life!" 

"That's not, no," stuttered Ishimaru, "you're not in your right mind, Oowada, just..." The carpeted floor started squeaking at that moment, and Ishimaru looked up to see that Oowada was charging towards him. 

"What..." Ishimaru's remark was left incomplete as he scrambled up from his spot on the floor, but Oowada got to him before he could escape and pushed him back onto the ground. Ishimaru inhaled sharply and audibly as he was forcefully seated, the air horribly cold as it rushed through his throat. Everything happened so fast and before he knew it, Oowada was kneeling in front of him, the bigger man looming over him. He bent down to be face-to-face with Ishimaru so that the neckline of his wifebeater dipped down. Ishimaru's eyes darted nervously to all of his boss' exposed skin, feeling his mouth watering at the sight. He forced his eyes to look back up, shaking as he refused to give in.

"I'm serious," Ishimaru tried to push Oowada away, despite how enticing he looked, "please stop this before you hurt yourself."

In response, Ishimaru's hands were knocked off Oowada's chest, and without anything separating them anymore, Oowada cupped Ishimaru's face with one hand, tilted it upwards, and pulled himself forward to sloppily crash his lips onto Ishimaru's. His other hand rested hot and heavy on Ishimaru's hip, and Oowada deepened the kiss. Oh God, this was happening. He felt Oowada's knee nudging his legs apart. God, this was definitely happening.

"Stop!" Ishimaru mumbled against Oowada's lips, which pressed harder against his own in response. He gasped, desperately trying to push Oowada away, but the hand on his hip snaked around his waist and pressed against the small of his back, making their bodies flush against each other. He felt Oowada ground his knee against his groin, and he swore against Oowada's mouth. Their embrace was warm, so warm, and Ishimaru couldn't do anything except lean into the man holding him and kissing him as if his life depended on it. They finally broke apart for air, gasping heavily, and for a moment, all they did was look into each other's eyes, scarlet clashing with lilac, feeling electric to their fingertips.

"Kiyotaka," murmured Oowada. A shiver ran down Ishimaru's spine and his vision blurred at the call of his given name. Oowada continued, "Why aren't you wearing the ring?"

Ishimaru opened his mouth to answer, then caught himself and promptly shut it. He wrapped his hands around Oowada's wrists and tried to push them off of his back and chin. "I cannot tell you." 

Because if he told Oowada that he wasn't wearing his ring because he loved him, he would ruin Oowada with false hope.

Oowada glared at him, his hands unrelenting and refusing to let go of Ishimaru, fingertips digging deeper into Ishimaru's flesh. Ishimaru glanced at Oowada's whitening knuckles only to feel a wave of confusion crash through him.

"I do not understand, Oowada."

Oowada's facial expression softened into a gaze. He said, "What don't you understand?"

"I don't understand why you're doing this," Ishimaru spat, "you ignored me for two months and made it very clear that you wanted nothing to do with me. Why are you suddenly coming onto me now?" Not like he had any room to talk, though.

Oowada grimaced, clearly not thrilled at being interrogated. He sighed, "I told you the answer to that question months ago."

"What?" Ishimaru racked his brain for any memory of this, but came up empty-handed, a rare occurrence in the dedicated man's life.

"I..." Oowada looked away, his cheeks tinting pink, "I told you that night after we went to Fukawa's place that I couldn't stop thinking about you for eight years. I don't know how to fall out of love with you. I... don't  _want_ to fall out of love with you."

"Wha--  _mmph!_ " Ishimaru gave a muffled inquiry as Oowada pressed his lips against Ishimaru's again with softer and better aimed kisses than the previous ones, driven by emotion and need, had been. Against his will, tears flowed freely down his face and blood rushed up his head. He almost felt cherished, treasured, even, by how careful and precise Oowada was being with him, even if it was just with physical affection.

Oowada pulled away with a smack then immediately dove down to pepper Ishimaru's neck with kisses. The editor _whined_ as Oowada's lips marked his long-untouched skin.

"No, stop,  _ugh_ ," Ishimaru wimpered hazily, "no, that's not the right-  _ah!_ Fuck, right there! Kiss me right there, _oh,_ _shit_ _!_ " He alternated between commanding Oowada to stop and begging him for more through ragged whispers. He moaned especially loud when he felt Oowada's mouth around his earlobe and pulling, and Oowada paused at the sound, his mouth hovering over Ishimaru's ear, his breath deliciously hot against Ishimaru's sensitive skin.

Oowada pulled back to stare into Ishimaru's eyes, his own eyes darkened with sinister lust. "We can't have the people in the rooms next to us hearing you, Kiyotaka." Ishimaru felt the warmth of Oowada's hand leave his cheek. He opened his mouth to protest but Oowada took advantage of that to place two fingers in Ishimaru's mouth. The editor started and did his best to voice an inquiry, it coming out as a muffled and wordless wail. Oowada smirked and bent back over to place deep kisses along Ishimaru's ear.

Ishimaru moaned and began swirling his tongue around Oowada's fingers. The head editor groaned against Ishimaru's ear, sending electric shivers up the editor's spine, and Oowada hooked his thumb under Ishimaru's chin and forced his head upwards, exposing more of Ishimaru's neck. Oowada trailed kisses along the taut skin between Ishimaru's ear and neck before he pressed a deep kiss to Ishimaru's neck. Unable to moan loudly, Ishimaru sucked on Oowada's fingers desperately, panting from Oowada's kisses driving him crazy. After one last lingering kiss to Ishimaru's collarbone, Oowada slowly pulled his fingers out of Ishimaru's mouth, surveying the erotic sight before him: Ishimaru, his face stained and his eyes wet with tears, panting in a pleasured frenzy, a trail of saliva connecting Ishimaru's tongue to Oowada's fingers. Ishimaru scowled at the saliva trail as he would have to an invite to a house party in high school and swiftly cut through the trail with his hand.

"There's no way this will ever end well, Oowada," Ishimaru stated as he reached for a tissue. "I suggest you stop immediately and allow us to part on our separate ways."

"No, Kiyotaka, talk to me," pleaded Oowada as Ishimaru wiped the saliva from his hand, "and stop assuming shit. I got dumped because you assumed I cheated on you without talking to me eight years ago. And now, you get engaged without talking to me, but I don't know why. Please, I need to fucking know why."

"I cannot tell you." Because if Ishimaru did, he would be swept away by Oowada again, but Ishimaru had nothing to give Oowada when he was tied down to Ikusaba, and that wasn't fair. It just wasn't.

"I ain't moving on if you don't tell me. And, well, I've had my suspicions, y'know," said Oowada. 

Ishimaru looked at him quizzically, raising an eyebrow. "About what?"

"Yer... your engagement. I see you wearing an engagement ring on your finger two months ago, but I never see you wearing it again afterwards. You never talk about your engagement, hell, you never even announced it, or your fiancée. That's fucking weird."

"You know I'm a reserved man, Oowada," Ishimaru lied smoothly, "I don't like talking about my personal life when it is unnecessary."

"I know you, I know that, Kiyotaka," Oowada said softly, "and I don't doubt your engagement, but I... I have my fucking doubts, okay?!" 

"Okay."

"God dammit, Kiyo, don't get fucking curt with me now!"

Ishimaru flinched, but not because Oowada's volume had risen to yelling. "...What did you just call me?"

Now it was Oowada's turn to look at the other man quizzically. 

"Oh," Oowada said, rubbing the back of his neck, "I uh, I guess I called you by yer old nickname. Wait, why're you blushing?"

Ishimaru started and touched his cheeks with his hands, surprised by how burning hot they were. Details of the dream of him and Mondo that he had earlier came rushing back to him. "I, I don't know, I," he was rambling now, unable to stop the floodgates from opening, "I dreamed about a study date we had years ago, the one where I first started calling you Mondo, and, I, I remembered your nickname for me."

Oowada cursed under his breath and palmed his growing erection in an attempt to hide it. "Don't fucking tell me you think of me," he snarled through gritted teeth, "or else I'll always be suspicious of yer sketchy engagement."

After hearing those words, somewhere inside of him, Ishimaru snapped, and he couldn't take it anymore. He sobbed openly, clutching his face as sobs wracked his body. Oowada's eyes widened in alarm and concern. "Hey, hey," he soothed, "Kiyo, hey, it's okay. What's wrong?"

"I didn't..." Ishimaru braced himself for his confession. "I didn't want to be engaged."

Oowada stared at the crying editor with strained surprise. "W-Wha...?"

"That day... when I got a call from my father," hiccuped Ishimaru, "he... he took me to a marriage interview that I had no knowledge of. I went and I was introduced to Ikusaba and-"

"Wait, did you just say 'Ikusaba'?" Oowada shouted, despite gagging Ishimaru for being "too loud" minutes before, "You... you can't be talking about...?"

"Yes, my fiancée is Ikusaba Mukuro."

"Yer fuckin' with me. What the fuck?"

"She's the daughter of the Commissioner-General of the police," Ishimaru said, "and my father has been obsessed with restoring honour to the Ishida name for years now, and so he sought to marry me off to her so that he and I could both climb the ranks of the police force."

"Holy shit."

"I had no idea I was going to be betrothed either, Oowada." Ishimaru sobbed, "My father had no consent of mine to carry out with his plans. I hadn't even seen Ikusaba since graduation! But he found out I love you, and he threatened to kill you, so I had no choice but to agree! _God,_ Mondo, oh God, he wanted to  _murder_ you. And now I'm supposed to fucking marry her in four months. I... I don't know what to do. I don't want to..."

Suddenly, he was being held tightly by Oowada, who was heaving quiet sobs of his own. The head editor wrapped his arms around Ishimaru, pressing Ishimaru's face against his shoulder and rubbing Ishimaru's back soothingly. Through the warmth surrounding him and the heartbeat he felt from being pressed up against Oowada, Ishimaru could practically feel the head editor's concern and pain, which only intensified his crying. His tears (and probably snot) soaked through Oowada's shirt, and he wrapped his arms around Oowada's waist, hoping that the gesture was enough to convey how much he loved the other man.

After a few minutes of muffled cries, Oowada turned his head to lightly kiss Ishimaru's temple. "I'm sorry," the head editor whispered, "I'm sorry for treating you like shit, when I didn't even know what the hell was going on with you."

Ishimaru shook his head, feeling the tips of his hair brushing against Oowada's face. "No, do not apologize! I deserved it, I truly did."

"Ishimaru-"

"No excuses! I got engaged and I did not tell you the circumstances surrounding it." He curled his hands into fists behind Oowada's back. "No matter how badly you treated me, I understand that it was simply karma!"

Oowada smiled. "You dork, you only get passionate about stupid shit like this."

"I may have changed a lot, but my inner Super High School Level talent is here to stay."

"Good," mumbled Oowada, "That's, um... one of the many things I love about you." Oowada pulled his arm away from Ishimaru's head to rub the back of his own neck, evidently flustered. Ishimaru stifled a giggle, plagued with worries yet again.

"Oowada," he said seriously, "I... I was manipulated and blackmailed by my father."

The head editor quickly became solemn, no doubt secretly seething in fury. "Yeah, that lowlife piece of scum threatened to kill me to get you to do what he wanted."

"Exactly. And though I admit I love you, I'm... I'm scared. I don't want to continue my forced betrothal to Ikusaba, but I don't want to put you in danger, either."

Oowada gently pushed away from Ishimaru. "So what're you saying?"

"I... I really can't do this. For your sake, I have to go through with the... marriage. And quit working under you."

"Ishimaru, we can get through this."

"What? No, listen to me, we can't."

The head editor placed his hands on Ishimaru's shoulders. "I know I may not deserve you, and that my life is in danger, but I can't let you go again, Ishimaru. Never again." He bit his lip anxiously, then continued. "I feel like... I feel like I can fuckin' do anything as long as I'm with you, y'know? Like, shit, I feel like, no, I fucking know we can get through this. Together."

"Working on shoujo manga has shifted your mindset to idealism and optimism, Oowada, it doesn't suit you." Though the words were harsh, the playful undertone in Ishimaru's voice gave it away that he was teasing. Strangely, Ishimaru almost felt the same way.

Oowada rolled his eyes. "Whatever, I ain't kidding, though. I mean it."

"I know," Ishimaru smiled, "I know, you've always been so serious."

"Stay with me, then, Kiyo," Oowada suggested, "stay with me, and we'll make it through this shit together. We'll figure something out, we always have, right?"

Their time together flashed before Ishimaru's eyes, from their dates in high school to their passionate encounters in the past five months. He remembered their talks about their feelings, their heartfelt confessions, and all the times Oowada looked out for him and protected him. He looked at Oowada, who looked the most earnest he had ever looked, and for once, he let his heart speak over his overanalyzing thoughts. His answer was simple, it only required one word, but he knew it would change everything.

"Okay." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S FINALLY OUT OH MY GOD THIS CHAPTER IS OUT!!! (thought of AO3 user Serendipital when I named the chapter ayyy lmao)  
> Thanks for not giving up on me, beautiful readers. Life has been hectic while my motivation to write has not. I finished high school, moved to Montreal, and started university, just to list a few of the things I did during the 3 months this chapter wasn't out. Thanks again for sticking with me, please leave comments below.  
> Please. I love comments. I need comments. I live on comments.


	9. Ever Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gay dorks finally experience some happiness together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to stop typing out Fujisaki's stutters. It's sort of redundant to keep having to add extra letters in front of certain words lol.  
> \-----  
> This chapter isn't as dramatic as the previous ones. There's no "grand finale" where Ishimaru and Oowada get into some crazy super shoujo anime-like situation and confess their feelings for one another. It's just a chapter filled with actual working (LOL a rare occurrence in this supposed "Editing Firm/Workplace AU"...) and fluff; I hope that's okay... I am pretty disappointed that I took this long to release what is pretty much a filler chapter, and I'm sure you are too. Sorry, guys, you deserve better. Hope you enjoy the chapter, regardless. :)

When many good things happened in succession, Ishimaru got the eerie feeling in the pit of his stomach that life was being too good for him; he would anticipate everything falling apart, because life only builds you up when it's setting you up to fall from the heavens.

It wasn't always like this; Ishimaru wasn't always this pessimistic. Up until the end of high school, he believed that good things came to a person if they deserved them through hard work. Thus, even if "too many" good things seemed to happen to him, he would accept them graciously, believing them to be just rewards for his endeavors. But of course, all of that gross optimism was yanked away when _the breakup_ happened and was replaced with the usual paranoia and spite that came with being a jaded adult. Which was why, with every reason he had gained to feel ecstatic, he also felt dread.

He should have been overjoyed. He found his first love, whom he had never stopped loving, after eight years of separation. The man he loved took him back despite the fact that Ishimaru was engaged to a woman. Oowada was so good to him, and yet on the train ride back to Tokyo, the most prevalent emotion Ishimaru felt while looking upon Oowada's sleeping figure was fear. Even though Oowada repeatedly forgave his errors and accepted him over and over again, Ishimaru couldn't help but feel that something terrible was about to happen.

* * *

Though the deadline for Ishimaru and Ikusaba's "engagement period" was fast approaching, Ishimaru and Oowada were laying low and putting some distance between each other. It would probably mean hell if Ikusaba, a former mercenary, Oda, the chief of police, or Takaaki, the batshit crazy father discovered that Ishimaru was cheating on Ikusaba, and it didn't seem like a good idea to simply rush in and attempt to break up with Ikusaba without careful thought and planning. Until they could work out a solid plan for ending the betrothal, Ishimaru and Oowada agreed to keep things lowkey. They focused on work for the next few weeks, Oowada doing his usual editor-in-chief duties and Ishimaru working with two editors at the same time for the first time. It was difficult at first, coordinating between Pekoyama and Mitarai, especially the latter, whom he had to work with for the first time to produce a manuscript, but he studied hard and asked his co-workers until he got the hang of it.

To top it all off, Ishimaru had another first occurrence to deal with today. Up until now, Tanaka had dealt with Ishimaru's book publication meetings, meetings where the executive staff members and the editor of a certain book got together to discuss how many copies of a book will be published in its first printing. But now that Ishimaru had gained some more experience and had observed a meeting with Oowada, he was to present his case for the first time.

The morning before the meeting, Ishimaru made sure his appearance was presentable to the meeting. He briefly remembered Oowada's outfit, his memory tracing the deep neckline of Oowada's Y-shirt that day, until he shook himself out of it. Yes, Oowada had looked enticing in his slightly-more-formal-than-usual formal wear, but that wasn't the point. If Oowada, the former leader of the biggest gang in Japan, dressed up for book publication meetings, then so would he! He  _had_ admittedly been slacking off in regards to his attire, lately. In fact, ever since working in shoujo manga, every aspect of his life had been slipping. His diet was unhealthy (but certainly not to Oowada's empty-fridge level), he left laundry and dishes until last minute, and he fell asleep on the floor almost as much as he slept on his bed...

Ishimaru shook his head in an effort to shake the thoughts out. This was no time to be discouraged; if he were to face a new day, he ought to face it with enthusiasm, determination, and lots of effort!

Satisfied, he put on a coat and started to head out. The moment Ishimaru opened the front door to leave for work, however, he was tackled from the side.

"What the-?!" he cried as he stumbled momentarily before catching his footing. Ishimaru tensed, ready to fight back if his assailant decided to strike again, but he felt something rest against his left leg. Confused, he looked down, not sure what to expect since he thought he was being attacked by someone, and he was surprised to see Charlie propped on her hind legs and breathing excitedly. Curious, his eyes followed the leash until they rested on Oowada, clad in a hoodie with the hood pulled over his head and baggy sweatpants. 

"'Mornin'," Oowada called out lazily. He yawned loudly without covering his mouth, his eyes, smudged with last night's eyeliner, crinkling during the yawn. As soon as they lazily opened he flicked them up and down.

Ishimaru frowned. "Did you just check me out, Oowada?"

"W-W-What? No, why the actual fuck would I do that, that's gay as fuck."

"But you _are,_ as you so eloquently put it, 'gay as fuck'."

"Shut up!" 

Ishimaru couldn't stop himself from laughing. "I find it quite useless for you to act closeted when you were in an openly gay relationship with another male student in high school."

"Seriously, shut the fuck up!" barked Oowada, his face turning a spectacular shade of pink. 

Ishimaru pushed down a familiar sense of fear for the future and allowed his content to overshadow the negativity. Ever since they had made up on their strictly professional business trip, they often flirted playfully like this at the office and at home in exchange for keeping their relationship and feelings low on the radar until Ikusaba was out of the picture. It was blissful, and Ishimaru thanked himself every day for learning how to flirt and joke around like this; high school boy Ishida, to put it simply, had not been a sociable charmer.

Finally, Charlie calmed down and stopped hopping around Ishimaru's legs, and the editor smiled fondly down at the dog. He said, "I must say I really was shocked to be attacked first thing in the morning."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that, I take her out on walks before leaving for work." Oowada's facial expression suddenly turned grim. "If you had kicked Charlie or some shit, you'd be dead fucking meat."

Ishimaru blanched. "I would be deceased and having sexual intercourse with meat?"

Oowada blinked. "I... wha? No, I meant... ya'd be dead meat... but it just fucking sounds cooler when ya..." Oowada shook his head. "No, forget it. That was the most cliche stupid one-liner I've ever heard, and I edit girls' manga for a living. I can't believe you're still bad at this shit as an adult."

"Some things I simply cannot change about myself!"

Oowada rolled his eyes. "Like the fact that you'll be late for your book production meeting if you talk t'me any longer?"

Ishimaru whipped his wrist up and gasped at the time on his wristwatch. Then he glared up at Oowada. "You did this on purpose!"

Another roll of those lilac eyes. "Yeah, I purposefully was so kind to you and remind ya of the time and prevented ya from bein' late. How cruel."

"I...!" Ishimaru faltered, realizing Oowada was right; the chief editor was only looking out for him. "I'm sorry for getting upset." He reached up, grabbed Oowada's hood, and pulled it downwards, forcing Oowada to bend over.

"W-Wha-?!" Oowada's protest was cut off by Ishimaru swiftly kissing his lips once they were at the same height level. Ishimaru's smile bubbled over into a soft laugh when he caught sight of Oowada's stunned and red face, and he left go of the taller man's hood.

"Thanks for the warning." Ishimaru waved. "I'll be off then."

"Y-Yeah... I mean, uh. Fuck you. Motherfucker."

* * *

Ishimaru found himself back in a book publication meeting much too soon for his own liking. He fidgeted at his seat in the boardroom, sensing himself to be stared at by every eye in the room. Unlike the first time he had sat in on one of these meetings, he was the editor of the book they were presently discussing, not Oowada. Last publication meeting, Ishimaru was merely an observer to Oowada's meeting, with no role or any obligation to participate. But now, he was like the defense attorney in court or the only soldier left to fight for his country. He was still a bit flustered from his earlier bold move on Oowada and his adrenaline was about to bubble over, but Ishimaru forced himself to snap out of his lovesick high and dazed stupor. This was the time to focus; he had the responsibility of pushing for the number of times his book was to be printed and published. He peeked at the other members of the meeting one last time, knowing that the battle to come would be rough.

He pursed his lips nervously, eyes darting between everyone staring at him. Across the table to his left was Otonashi, the chief of the Financial Department of Marukawa, twirling some strands of her red hair with her finger. Directly across from him was Fujisaki, who was acting much more civil towards him than usual, his hazel pupils flickering towards him occasionally instead of the usual glare he got from the senior salesman. Seated on his side of the table were several members of the Production Department, the people who manufactured the books and turned them into the physical pieces of art they were sold as. But Ishimaru was puzzled to see that there was nobody seated at the head of the table.

"Excuse me," said Ishimaru, ignoring the looks pointed at him, "I must bring the fact that there is nobody seated at the head of the table to everyone's attention. Should there not be a senior member of staff to oversee the meeting?"

Otonashi's facial expression transitioned from bemusement to horror as she spotted the empty chair. She clutched her head, eyes wide. "I... what?" She whispered, "I don't understand why...? There's supposed to be a senior member of staff there... they  _have_ to be there to start the meeting!" Ishimaru stared at her worriedly; apparently she was known to abruptly act distraught and confused despite her usual mellow character.

Fujisaki fidgeted, a look of terror on his face. "Oh no... Otonashi, everything will be fine... hang in there!"

At that moment, a pounding sound resounded from outside the boardroom. Fujisaki jumped in his seat and shrieked while Otonashi seemed to snap out of her trance as she whipped her head towards the noise with wide but focused eyes. 

"Hey! HEYYYY!" Somebody shouted on the other side of the boardroom door, "Open the door! I'm supposed to be part of the meeting too, guys!"

"Ah. Wait." Otonashi pondered, then her eyes brightened in realization. "Ah, it's Hagakure!"

"H...Hagakure?!" The members of the Production Department squirmed in their seats, the fact that they had locked the Senior Managing Director of the company out of the room.

"Hahaha!" shrieked Otonashi in delight, the redhead seeming to have regained her composure, "He got left outside because nobody likes him!"

"Hey! I heard that!"

* * *

 After Hagakure whined and cried about being left outside of the meeting he was supposed to oversee, he stomped to his seat and pouted, tears lingering at the corner of his eyes. "Some friends you are, locking someone who's practically your boss outside!"

Otonashi blinked at him. "We're friends?"

"OTONASHICHIIIIIIII," sobbed Hagakure hysterically, "How could you?!"

"That's enough, Hagakure!" said Fujisaki, his eyebrows twitching in annoyance. "We are here to discuss publishing Mitarai Ryouta's new book, not to stage a comedy show with the blundering Hagakure Yasuhiro as its main star!"

"How could you be so mean? Wait... I'm the main star?"

Ishimaru pointed at Hagakure and bellowed, "Hagakure! How could you miss the point so badly?!"

"'M not missing any points, dude, I see your finger pointing at me loud and clear."

"How... How could this be? Your IQ levels are astounding."

Fujisaki glared at the editor. "Ishimaru, act professional! We gathered here to discuss YOUR book, so DON'T waste our time!"

Oh,  _there_ was the hostile Fujisaki Chihiro that Ishimaru knew; he finally showed up!

Otonashi cleared her throat. "I've analyzed the circumstances surrounding the book we are to start discussing now," she stated, "and my conclusion is that we should print 150,000 copies of 'Beautiful Life' as a starting run." Ishimaru's jaw dropped at the appallingly low number of books proposed to be printed, but he firmly closed it and set his lips into a hard line. This wasn't the time to be dumbfounded; as much as it pained him to know that fighting Otonashi's proposal would start a raging onslaught and a string of curse words, it was his only option if he was to get the starting run he wanted.

"I object!" Ishimaru said firmly, "Mitarai Ryouta is one of the most successful shoujo manga authors in Japan. Selling only that many books for its first run will result in all 150,000 books being sold out in a matter of days!"

Fujisaki put a finger up to his lips. "Oh, dear..."

Ishimaru's eyes shifted over to the salesman. Had he said something wrong to deserve that reaction? "What is it?"

"This is your first time in a book publication meeting, isn't it? Oh dear."

"I demand to know what you're insinuating with that comment!"

"What he means," Otonashi cut in, "is that your argument doesn't hold water in this situation."

Ishimaru's eyebrows knit in confusion. "It doesn't? And what do you mean 'this situation'? What situation are we in?"

"Tell me, Ishimaru, was it?" Otonashi looked directly at him, her stare piercing him. "Tell me exactly what book the subject of our current debate is."

The editor grinned. "That is an easy one, the first volume of Mitarai Ryouta's 'Beautiful Life.'"

"You're focusing on the wrong thing here, newbie," Otonashi practically laughed, "Don't be so proud that you know the details of your book. Focus on why the details are important to consider in this debate."

Ishimaru's face scrunched up in concentration, his brain saying the details of the book in his head over and over again. Suddenly, in realization, his eyes flicked over to the New Book Publication proposal he had written for "Beautiful Life." His eyes scanned the page until they fell upon the various notes he had written in the middle noting its proposed popularity. They read, "First volume of a new series, but of a popular author."

"I get it," said Ishimaru, Otonashi's implications gradually dawning upon him, "you mean to say that because this is the first volume of a brand new series, this book won't sell as well as Mitarai's other books."

"Bingo," confirmed Otonashi, "this book is totally new. This book is different in the case that this is not the new volume of an existing series; there are no fans of the series that were eagerly awaiting this book's release. No, this is a brand new series itself, so why take the risk of printing the abnormally high number of copies Mitarai's books usually demand?"

"H-Hence," Fujisaki continued, "the only people who will think of buying this book will be avidly devoted and loyal fans of Mitarai; far less people than the usual number of fans his books garner."

The other members of the meeting murmured in agreement, and Ishimaru felt a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face. He tensed, feeling defensive. How could these people doubt Mitarai-sensei like this? Mitarai-sensei had worked tirelessly, even sacrificing sleep and meal times, for this book, and his hard work deserved equal amount of rewards reaped! Of course 150,000 books weren't enough for a first run, even if "Beautiful Life" was completely new! 

"I'm not finished yet," added Fujisaki, "Although I agree with Otonashi's logic - her analysis skills are superb - I agree with Ishimaru that 150,000 copies are nowhere enough for the first run. Make it double that: 300,000." His words dropped like a bomb in the boardroom, and the room erupted in the inevitable chaos Ishimaru had been dreading.

"What?" Otonashi said with a blank look on her face. "300,000?" Her eyes crossed, then began moving in all directions. Her voice rose with every word, "Do you even realize what you're FUCKING suggesting? There's no way we could sell that many copies of a brand new book!" Fujisaki flinched at the Financial Department head's piercing shrieks, and Ishimaru took that pause to his advantage.

"According to the data I compiled from our archives," Ishimaru declared, "the last time Mitarai Ryouta started a brand new series, the first book sold 330,000 copies in its opening run."

"What... what did you say?"

The editor smiled triumphantly. "Looks like your analytical skills are only as good as the research you bother to do, Otonashi! Hard work and perseverance are critical, afterall."

"Whoa, Ishida-chi!" Hagakure cheered excitedly, "You're just like how you used to be in high school, shooting people down! Man, that was so cool!" Ishimaru ignored the hushed whispers among the Production Department members about the possibility of Ishimaru and Hagakure having gone to high school together, and continued his full-frontal attack.

"That being said, it has been possible to sell more than 300,000 copies in the past, so 150,000 books as a starting run will be overwhelmingly insufficient!"

Fujisaki sputtered, "B-B-But the last time Mitarai Ryouta started a new manga was s-six years ago!"

"Yes," Ishimaru deadpanned matter-of-factly. "And?"

"You dug through the database that far for your research?"

"Of course. I set my mind to finding the damn number of books sold in a completely new series' starting run, and so I did not rest until I found it."

"Nerd," mumbled Otonashi, while Fujisaki stared at him in stunned silence, his eyebrows raised to his hairline.

"That may be true about me, but that is not the point here. My point here is, with Mitarai Ryouta having gained popularity since six years ago," Ishimaru tapped at a chart he had printed out, "it makes sense to print even more books than a measly 330,000 not worth the present demand for his books."

Fujisaki gasped. "Don't you  _dare_ suggest printing four-"

"I compel you all to consider printing 400,000 copies of 'Beautiful Life'!"

Hagakure imitated the sound of spitting out a drink for dramatic measure. Otonashi piped, "Are you nuts?"

"No, I'm logical," Ishimaru snapped back, "During the serialization of Mitarai's previous series, he gained numerous fans because his series was that moving and spectacular. He has so many more readers than he had six years ago, eagerly awaiting his new series, and so the drastic increase in copies of books to publish makes sense!"

Otonashi opened her mouth to protest, but fell flat and closed it again. Ishimaru placed his hands on his hips and grinned. With the hushed silence falling upon the members of the meeting, he knew he had somehow convinced everybody that his proposal was infallible. He was bound to win and get 400,000 copies printed. Hell, he could pretty much see the dollar signs swimming in the senior salesman's eyes.

"You got your facts straight, newbie," Fujisaki acknowledged with a sigh. He turned to Hagakure. "Well, Hagakure? It's all up to you, now."

Hagakure started awake. "Huh? Oh... Oh, yeah! Right, I'm the top dawg here. One sec, guys!" The senior managing director dove under the table with a grunt and the sound of bones groaning and cracking, and dove right back up with a translucent sphere in his hand.

"Um, I don't mean to pry, but what is that?" A production department member asked.

"Oh, this?" Hagakure lifted the sphere up. "This is my authentic and totally-not-expensive-at-all crystal ball, dude!"

"Crystal ball? Why...?"

"Um... you don't know?" Fujisaki answered, "Hagakure attended Hope's Peak Academy as the Super High School Level Fortune Teller..."

The production member gawked, whether it was in awe or disbelief, Ishimaru didn't know. 

"Hm... let's see... I'm going to predict the outcome of the first run of sales then base my decision on that, dudes!" Hagakure squinted at his crystal ball, spinning it in his hands as he stuck his tongue out in concentration. "Lessee... oh! I see it! I predict that 'Beautiful Life'..."

"Yes?" Fujisaki prompted, "Go on..."

"The crystal ball foretells that it won't sell any copies at all and it'll totally flop!"

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!" Otonashi screamed, "WERE YOU LISTENING TO THIS MEETING AT ALL?"

As all hell broke loose, Ishimaru turned to the quivering production department members. "Did we mention that Hagakure only has a 33% accuracy rating?"

"Hey! It's 34% now!"

* * *

Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity of bickering between Otonashi and Hagakure, 400,000 copies became the finalized number for the first printing run. The members of the meeting straggled out of the boardroom one by one, thoroughly drained by the exhausting meeting. Ishimaru dragged his gelatinous self to the elevator. Although he was elated that he won, it had taken far too much effort to earn his victory for him to lift his spirits up; the constant screaming, cursing, and quick thinking had him exhausted.

"Hey, Ishimaru."

The editor perked up at the calling of his name, but quickly deflated again when he realized that was not the voice of a certain editor-in-chief. He turned, ignoring his joints groaning in protest, to see Fujisaki looking up at him expectantly. Ishimaru almost sighed in front of the senior salesman; he was too tired to deal with this shit.

"Good morning, Fujisaki," he forced himself to exchange pleasantries, "I wasn't able to greet you properly, what with the insanity of the meeting earlier."

"That's true, we were too busy to have casual conversation this morning," the salesman responded easily. His hazel eyes crinkled into a smile. "I just wanted to congratulate you for your success in today's meeting. You did a good job." 

"Wait," deadpanned Ishimaru with a thoroughly confused expression on his face, "are you actually... complimenting me?"

Fujisaki rolled his eyes. "Duh, your performance was good, despite it being a newbie's first meeting. I hadn't seen a first-timer who was determined enough to dig through 6-year old archives until you did just that." He smiled again. "Keep up the good work, Ishimaru!" 

The salesman walked away with a brisk skip in his step as Ishimaru stared at him with eyebrows knit over his eyes and an agape mouth. What was that all about? Fujisaki Chihiro had paid him compliments without a single hint of hostility or hatred in his words or voice? This had never happened before! Ishimaru tried hard to deduce the reason for Fujisaki's sudden friendliness. Was being angry and passive aggressive all the time energy consuming, and thus Fujisaki had decided to stop being negative? Somehow, Ishimaru didn't think that was the case, given how furious Fujisaki had been with him before. So why?

"Uh, so, are ya gettin' in or nah?"

Ishimaru jumped at the voice from the elevator that cut through his deep thoughts like an arrow. He mentally berated himself, realizing he had allowed himself to lose himself in his thoughts so thoroughly that he didn't hear the elevator arriving at his floor. He briskly entered the elevator, mumbled a thanks to the figure in the corner, and moved to press the fourth floor button as the doors closed before realizing that it was already illuminated.

"How was the meeting?"

Ishimaru's heart lurched like the moving elevator when he realized he was hearing the voice he had wanted to hear all morning. He looked up, and sure enough, the other person in the elevator was Oowada.

"Hey," Ishimaru croaked, willing the blood away from his cheeks, "the meeting was good. I got 400,000 copies of 'Beautiful Life' finalized for the first run."

Oowada's eyes widened. "Serious? That's great!" The head editor flashed Ishimaru a thumbs up and a lopsided smile.

Ugh, he was  _so_ weak to those lopsided smiles.

Before either of their fantasies could run wild, the elevator doors opened at the fourth floor, and they looked over to the open doors dumbfounded.

"Huh, should've known elevator rides don't last as long as they fucking do in shoujo manga," Oowada said. He turned to Ishimaru with a smirk. "I was pretty fuckin' close to just grabbin' ya and-"

"Absolutely not!" Ishimaru shouted a bit too loudly. He cleared his throat at the few concerned glances he got from bystanders, then continued with the sternest look he could manage. "There are security cameras in the elevator, boss, that's just another thing in reality you failed to discern in the wishful shoujo manga scenarios."

"Shit. Well, whatever." Oowada rubbed the back of his neck and winked. "There'll be other chances."

The blood that Ishimaru had tried to will away from his cheeks earlier flooded back into his face at full throttle. He blushed furiously as the two males entered Diamond editing department.

"We're back," greeted Oowada.

"Welcome back!" chimed Sonia. "Wait, Ishi, are you blushing?"

Ishimaru jumped in nervous surprise. Hinata, thankfully, rolled his eyes and was a bit more practical in his response. "Hey, Ishimaru. Hey boss, where were you?"

Oowada raised an eyebrow. "I told Tanaka to tell you that I was picking up a completed storyboard."

All eyes laid on the second-in-command of Diamond, and it was only then that they saw the Supreme Overlord of Ice hunched over his workstation gritting his teeth.

"Um, Tanaka?" Ishimaru asked, "Are you all right? You look positively stressed!"

"Stressed" was putting it lightly. Sweat beaded across the second-in-command's forehead, and strands of unwashed hair stuck to his forehead, having come undone from his usually rigid gelled hair-do. His eyes were bloodshot and darting everywhere, mainly to his phone or to the entrance of Diamond, his body quivered from weakness, and he smelled of cat litter, just like he always did when he pulled all-nighters at the office.

"I am afraid the end of the cycle hit Tanaka harder than it hit the rest of us," mumbled Sonia dejectedly. 

The rest of the editors nodded solemnly. The end of the publication cycle was when storyboards had to be completed and submitted to the printers to be published into a legitimate book. However, after Oowada's sudden revival of his mood that Ishimaru totally knew nothing about the reason for, Diamond regained its notorious reputation for finishing books dreadfully last minute. Ishimaru checked his wristwatch and noted nervously that it was 11:30 am. The printers had demanded that the storyboards for the magazine be submitted no later than noon. With Oowada already working away with last minute fixes of tones and things like that, the only one still waiting on magazine materials was Tanaka.

Tanaka's eyes flickered over to the clock on the wall, and a nervous laugh escaped his throat. "I apologize, Superior Mortal," he wheezed, "I have neglected my Earthly duties as the Forbidden One! Even with my Hell Hound earring, I could not conjure enough demonic magic to-"

A voice Ishimaru had never heard before shouted out, "Argh, will you just shut up with the 'magic' bullshit, already?!" 

Tanaka bolted upright just at the sound of the new voice, an awed expression on his face. That was  _not_ the kind of facial expression Ishimaru expected him to have at essentially being told his 'powers' are bullshit. He thought the self-proclaimed Forbidden One would show more offence at the insult. Curious, Ishimaru turned towards the entrance of the department to face the stranger who provoked such a reaction from Tanaka.

He saw a man of average build wearing a neon yellow Anti Social Social Club hoodie, grey sweatpants, and a matching grey beanie. The beanie was pulled low over pastel pink hair, the rim almost reaching the man's sharp brown eyes.

"Souda?!" Hinata exclaimed, "What are you doing here? And... did you dye your hair... lighter?"

"Hinata!" The new man, apparently named Souda, wailed, "My soul friend! I miss having you edit my works! And yeah, I thought neon pink was the height of 'cool hair' but oh, I've been blind all this time! The other day I saw your girlfriend's hair and I was so inspired!" He flipped some of his light hair behind his shoulder. "Whaddya think? Isn't pastel pink such a good look on me?"

"U-Uh-!"

"You have failed to answer the question, Supreme Overlord of Fire," Tanaka breathed, "why are you here?" Ishimaru squinted at his second-in-command.  _Supreme Overlord of Fire?_

Souda scowled. "Huh? I came out all the way here to deliver my storyboard." He threw an envelope in front of Tanaka and scratched his face. "I knew I caused you a lot of trouble this cycle, being pissy at you and being really late with my chapter, so I decided to save you the time and trouble of going to my place and back here and just came here instead."

Tanaka gawked at Souda, then abruptly pulled his scarf up over his face and looked away. He said something, but his voice was muffled by the scarf.

"Huh? What're you even sayin'?" spat Souda.

"Thanks fer comin' all the way out here, Souda-sensei," Oowada substituted, "we truly appreciate your hard work."

Souda's flashed his teeth in a brilliant smile and gave a thumbs-up. "No problem! Now, to get home and sleep!" He scampered away, Tanaka still staring at him wordlessly all the while.

"Hey, Tanaka," the head editor prompted, "your storyboard." Tanaka blinked, then seemed to finally come back to his senses.

"My apologies, I will get straight to my work," mumbled Tanaka. Ishimaru grinned in amusement; it was rare for Tanaka to slip up and speak like a normal human being. Conveniently, Tanaka managed to finish his storyboard right as an employee from the printers strolled into Diamond to collect everybody's chapters. After everyone handed in their completed storyboards, Oowada declared that everybody was done for the day.

Ishimaru pumped his fist in celebration as the other editors, except for Tanaka, who had melted into a half-alive state in relief, made their hasty exits. Although he was finally starting to warm up to editing shoujo manga, the all-nighters and constant stress still got to him, and so hearing that the day would end early was like music to his ears. He got out of his seat and bent over to retrieve his bag, only for Oowada to pass by and smack his ass.

Ishimaru yelped, jumping so that he was standing straight up. He looked up at Oowada, his facial expression a mix between a pout and a glare.

"We are at the office,  _boss,_ " hissed Ishimaru, "I suggest you keep your hands to yourself, since public displays of affection are not tolerated during office hours."

"I just called it a day," offered Oowada, "so technically, office hours are fuckin' done." He reached over and gave Ishimaru's ass a squeeze.

"Stop it!" The editor swatted Oowada's hand off of his behind. "Frankly, you're acting grossly."

The head editor merely shrugged. "I can't help it. I'm really damn happy."

Ishimaru jolted in shock, blood and pleasure rushing up his body at the comment. Oowada was happy. He was  _happy._

"I am happy too," confirmed Ishimaru,"worried, but happy. Mostly because you are finally happy." He beamed up at his head editor, who recoiled as his tanned skin flushed.

"I... um..." stammered Oowada, "FUCK! GO OUT TO LUNCH WITH ME!"

The members of the yaoi editing department next door whipped around at hearing what they thought to be a man asking another man out on a date - the start of a workplace romance?! Ishimaru watched sweat trickle down Oowada's neck (and shooed away thoughts of what else could go down his neck) as Oowada stumbled to recover.

"Shit... uh, let's go out for drinks to... to celebrate the publishing of your first book with Mitarai."

The BL editors, who were all women, hung their heads dejectedly and turned around to abandon their false hope. One of them screamed, "OH, COME ON! IBUKI DIDN'T GET ALL EXCITED FOR THIS LAME CRAP! WHERE'S THE PASSION? WHERE IS THE GAY?! THE GAY!!"

Oowada's cheeks tinted red, but he managed not to shout in his nervousness again. His eyes darted over to Ishimaru, waiting for a reply to his proposal to go on a totally-not-a-date date. 

Ishimaru smiled. It really was cute how flustered his boss could get. "Yes, of course. Let's go, shall we?" A buoyant laugh escaped his lips as he watched Oowada's reaction; the editor took a moment to process the acceptance, then struggled to keep his excitement lowkey. 

Of course, he should have known that with his luck, even the smallest sources of happiness would swiftly be whisked away from him.

Just as he picked up his bag and was about to leave, Fujisaki entered Diamond and stared at him incredulously as if he had done something wrong. "Ishimaru," the salesman asked, "why are you packing up right now?" 

The editor blinked at the golden-blond. "What? Storyboards have been sent to the printer. Ergo, I'm free to go."

"No you're not, you still need to work out the final details of 'Beautiful Life,' remember?"

Ishimaru paled while Oowada seemed to deflate. Both of them had forgotten that since a full volume of Ishimaru's book would be published, he had to do final checks on the cover, material, story summaries, artwork, and whatnot.

"Right," said Ishimaru dejectedly, "I'll go down to the publication department straightaway, Fujisaki."

"This will probably take the whole work day," Fujisaki said, "you two are better off eating on your own." Ishimaru twitched at the subtle gloat in Fujisaki's voice, but he managed to shrug his feelings of dejection and negativity away. It wasn't as if Fujisaki had scored a victory, afterall, Oowada was finally his.

"Then, I'll be on my way, boss. Have a safe trip home."

Oowada grunted. "See you." His head inclined and his gaze dropped to the floor as Ishimaru turned to follow Fujisaki to the publication department, not realizing he left his bag in the office. 

* * *

The final checks with publication sped by, especially so since the procedures were similar to his job responsibilities when he worked as a literature editor. He had already discussed colour palettes, cover images, and all the details with Mitarai throughout the month, so all he had to do was tell publication their decisions. They had settled on a summery green and yellow colour scheme and decided to incorporate strokes of watercolour paint onto the cover to implicate a whimsical theme. He called Mitarai one last time to confirm the final touches, and judging by Mitarai's enthusiastically loud voice and the lack of stuttering, he was perfectly satisfied with the outcome of the book's design. 

Finally done with work, he made his way to the lobby and saw a familiar face packing up to leave work, too.

"Asahina!" He called out. She perked up, and waved upon seeing Ishimaru.

"Ishida, I mean, Ishimaru, hey!"

He chuckled. "Maybe you should write 'Ishimaru' in your hand three times so you can remember it."

"Aw, you remember I do that!" Asahina lilted, "You've always been such a good friend."

Ishimaru opened his mouth to tell her the same, but then a memory of their high school days flashed in his mind, when he and their classmate Yamada had both been struck in the head by the same desk that their other classmate Celestia had thrown in anger, but Asahina had rushed over to only Yamada's side and cried over him, leaving Ishimaru to deal with his concussion alone.

"You too," he choked out anyway.

"So," Asahina piped, oblivious to Ishimaru's subtle resentment, "What's been up lately?"

Ishimaru perked up again, desks and tears forgotten in an instant. He recounted his successful month of work, including his victory at the meeting earlier that day. Asahina didn't move a muscle during Ishimaru's excited tirade except to cheer.

"Wow, that's great!" Asahina exclaimed, "Boo, you're making my life sound so boring in comparison; I've just been scheduling work events like usual and getting into photography. We should go for dinner to celebrate all the fruits of your labour! Are you free? I know this REALLY scrumptious Mexican-Japanese fusion place, it's unreal!"

"Mexican-Japanese? That sounds intriguing!" mused Ishimaru aloud.

"Yeah! And it's right next to a bakery!"

"Ah, always vying for the doughnuts," reminisced Ishimaru, "Let me just check my schedule." He reached for his planner, but was met with empty space. He stared at his empty arms for several seconds before practically screaming. "I forgot my bag in my office! How could I have been so negligent?!"

"Oh no, I hope nothing got stolen! Go get it, I'll be waiting right here."

Ishimaru mumbled a quick apology over his shoulder to a concerned Asahina as he hustled to his office. After bouncing about in the elevator, he sprang out as soon as the doors opened into a deathly silent corridor, due to most offices being closed or being occupied with drained employees, being the end of the publishing cycle. He turned the corner into Diamond, and was relieved to see his bag on his desk. He picked it up, causing a small document underneath the bag to flutter to the ground and land face down.

Ishimaru's body tensed with suspicion. Unlike the other editors of Diamond, Ishimaru always made sure everything was orderly and clean before he left his workstation for the day. He was almost angry at the stray paper, angry at its existence for causing even the slightest instance of calamity in the former disciplinary committee member's life and causing him to think he messed up somehow. He stooped down and swiped the document from the floor. Determined to find out what he had missed while cleaning his desk, he swiftly flipped it.

The office seemed to blur and teeter around him when he was met with the caption "I see you" written on a developed photo of him and Ikusaba in the breakfast diner, taken from outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmfao SIKE i can't write a 100% fluffy chapter  
> \-----  
> ALL RIGHT LONG NOTE:   
> this chapter took 6 MONTHS to be published... honestly there's just no excuse. i'm crawling through my first year of university (the transition from high school to uni was really rough... not an excuse but...) yeah rip i'm sorry guys. i literally had to read through the fic 'cause i forgot what happened LMAO.  
> gghhhh i just want to hurry up and be done with this fic. i mean, the whole workplace AU fic is sweet and all, but (i) i don't even like the manga this story is based off of that much anymore lmfao and (ii) i have so many other dr fic ideas... like this one ishimondo fic idea (that also has leosaya, naegiri, and lots of character exploration around ikusaba and co.) that's multichap, talentswap, and it's actually set in hope's peak and focuses on the 78th class preventing despair from ever happening in their first year... so TGFL seems so lame in comparison LOL. so that's where i am in my life and my motivation, so future chapters will also be slow. i am sad because low productivity = low interest (so less views, kudos, and comments, boo...) but it is what it is. sorry guys, have a good one! and you know ya girl loves comments so leave 'em behind, even if it's to yell at me for being super slow at updating hahah!  
> tl;dr yo i hate this fic but ima do it for you ;*


	10. Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry to have misled you. this is not a new chapter.
> 
> this is my way of formally announcing (because i think the one year break makes it PRETTY CLEAR) that i will not be continuing TGFL. i will explain all and conclude the story below.

In this conclusion, I will be covering:

  1. Why I am discontinuing TGFL
  2. How the rest of TGFL would have gone (I may be discontinuing the story but I won't leave you hanging!)



* * *

Hey, readers. It is with a heavy heart and much regret that I bring you the news that I will not be continuing TGFL. 

I ensured you guys countless times that I would not be abandoning this story, that I would not be abandoning  _you._ If only I knew I would not be able to keep those promises. I'm sorry. I really did want to go through with this, but as time, years even, passed, it became increasingly clear to both you and me that TGFL would become discontinued eventually. That "eventually" has become "now."

I'm sure many of you know that I have recently (understatement lol) grown to dislike this story. When I first started this fic, I was a sixteen year old who had recently rediscovered my first ever yaoi, Sekaiichi Hatsukoi. This fanfiction was then based off of SH because sixteen year old me came up with an impulsive idea, a teenager's yaoi wet dream fantasy, essentially, to make an ishimondo AU based on a nostalgic yaoi. At the time, I thought it was genius. I was obsessed with SH and ishimondo, so why not combine the two together?

The important point here is that this was an  **impulsive** idea. I rushed and published the first chapter without coming up with a storyline. I had no major plot points, no plot twists... no nothing. I had nothing planned. I essentially slapped Danganronpa characters onto the first chapters of Sekaiichi Hatsukoi without really changing anything and called it my AU. Of course, I could only get so far in a story without planning. I had to come up with a story on the spot. I scrambled to come up with rivals, story arcs, and the whole flow of the story on the spot. All of my chapters took months to write because every time I finished a chapter, I would have to think of the following chapter's premise, conflict, plot, and grand finale all over again. I failed to do any long term planning and my pace, storyline, and writing all suffered due to my idiocy.

Eventually, I got tired of not having a cohesive story planned to the minor details. I got sick of having to come up with chapters on the spot and of having to plan the story from there. I came to despise TGFL for having a choppy pace and constantly higher stakes (have you heard of DBZ syndrome?) as a result of my failure to be meticulous from the beginning. And to top it all off, my love for Sekaiichi Hatsukoi died out, like, a year after I started the fic LMAO.

So there I was, stuck with a story that pretty much had no plot; I was stuck with a story that almost had a new storyline/event every chapter because I didn't think of one single storyline to begin with. I was stuck with a story which was based off of source material that I no longer even  _liked._ And so I came to feel nothing for this story (which is why I incessantly insisted that your comments were the only thing that kept me going, which was the truth. Hearing from you guys and knowing that even if  _ **I**_ didn't like my story,  ** _others_** did, was so reassuring). As of now, I haven't even  **touched** AO3 for nearly a year. I am able to completely distance myself from TGFL. That's how much I despise it.

The existence of TGFL has honestly been more of a nuisance to me than anything else for a little while now. I couldn't bring myself to write the stories that I  **REALLY** wanted to write because I was convinced I HAD to finish TGFL first. The knowledge that I was disappointing my beautiful readers and keeping them waiting was discouraging. TGFL lingered in the back of my mind in all the worst ways possible. And that is why this trainwreck of a story must come to an end. Again, I'm sorry. 

However, I assure you that I have learned from my mistakes. For all future stories (if I start to write again - I haven't written in... years, really), I will plan them thoroughly so that I will never get stuck on how to continue the story in the middle of a chapter. I hope that despite my inactiveness, you can be convinced that I have changed for the better as a writer and that you will continue to read and enjoy my stories in the days yet to come.

* * *

Now, to reveal how the story would have gone if I had continued to write TGFL.

These are the major plot points:

  1. Fujisaki
  2. Ikusaba
  3. Finale



**FUJISAKI:** The previous chapter ended on the dreadful note of Ishimaru discovering that he has a stalker who knows of his relationship with Ikusaba. Ishimaru would freak out, Asahina would check on him, and eventually Ishimaru would suspect Asahina of being his stalker because she mentions enjoying photography. But predictably, Oowada and Ishimaru find out that though Fujisaki had been putting up a nice front towards Ishimaru recently, he was the stalker all along. They have a confrontation, Oowada finally convinces Fujisaki that they're not right for each other and that he loves Ishimaru bla bla bla, and Fujisaki reluctantly agrees to stop meddling. Then Ishimaru and Oowada probably get super close to fucking idk.

 **IKUSABA:** Ikusaba's patience with Ishimaru does eventually run out, and to top it all of, she finds out that Ishimaru and Oowada are a thing RIPPERONIES. Ikusaba traps Oowada and Ishimaru somewhere and holds a knife to Oowada's neck until Ishimaru promises to immediately quit his job at Marukawa, move in with Ikusaba, and join the police force. 

 **FINALE:** The next day, Ikusaba is arrested for her crimes against Ishimaru and Oowada. The couple are confused as to how Ikusaba was caught, until they come in for questioning and see that Fujisaki witnessed the confrontation and took photographic evidence. Everything with Ikusaba is settled. Fujisaki apologizes for being a dick. Ishimaru's dad apologizes for being an even bigger dick. Ikusaba's adopted father apologizes for Ikusaba being the biggest dick. Oowada and Ishimaru show each other their dicks. Fast forward to the future when Oowada takes Ishimaru to that isolated place from chapter 4 (i think? the birthday one?) again and proposes, with Fujisaki secretly taking engagement photos for them.

I was unsure whether I would have gone straight to the finale OR have Ishimaru somehow break a criterion and enrage Ikusaba again, pretty much leading to her attempting to murder Oowada and having the police save Oowada right then and there and arrest Ikusaba. Probably would've depended on the pacing of the Ikusaba arc.

* * *

That's it! The Greatest First Love is done. I'm sorry this is how it had to end, but thank you so much for your support while TGFL lasted!

 


End file.
